LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



MANUAL 



OF 



Empirical Psychology 

AS AN INDUCTIVE SCIENCE. 

A TEXT-BOOK FOR HIGH SCHOOLS AND COLLEGES. 

by f 

Dr. Gustav Adolf Lindner, 

Professor in the University of Prague. ^^- «»-__ 

r — NOV 821889 Vj 

AUTHORIZED TRANSLATION 

BY 

CHAS. DeGIAKMO, Ph.D. (Halle), 

Professor of Modern Languages in Illinois State Normal University, Normal, III. 



BOSTON: 

D. C. HEATH & COMPANY. 

1889. 






Copyright, 1889, 
By D. C. Heath & Co. 



TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. 



THE reasons given by Professor Lindner for the produc- 
tion of this book may at the same time serve as reasons 
for its translation into English. That the book is full 
of vitality, having a rich, interesting content, and offering a 
satisfactory explanation of those things which others merely 
affirm, no one can doubt who reads it. 

But in addition to these general considerations, there 
are other reasons why this book is particularly needed in this 
country. American teachers have certainly demonstrated 
their faith in psychology as the only sure basis for a sound 
pedagogical practice, but thus far experience seems to have 
revealed to them but little intimate relation between the 
two. Both the faith and the experience of these teachers 
are right. Psychology certainly is the basis of true teach- 
ing, and most current psychologies do fail to reveal what a 
study of mind is able to do for the training of mind. The 
reasons for the latter fact are not far to seek. In large 
degree, the current psychologies are abstract, rationalistic 
manuals drawn primarily from the Scotch or other metaphy- 
sicians, and even when well written and fairly illustrated, 
they yet fail to excite any general vital interest in the sub- 
ject; because, starting from a priori rationalistic principles, 
they fail to touch the experience of the student. Lindner, 
on the contrary, begins with experience and never gets away 
from it. Every page is a direct incitation to introspection. 
Self-examination seems to come spontaneously to the reader. 



iv TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. 

Again, where the current text-books on psychology do 
not take their rise in metaphysical systems, they usually 
develop the subject of psycho-physics far beyond any prac- 
tical bearing upon the problems of education, even if they 
do not tend to or sink into an irrational materialism. Lind- 
ner indeed founds the beginnings of knowledge in psycho- 
physics, but he then proceeds to give a truly spiritual expla- 
nation to mental processes and products. 

Another reason for the lack of vigor with which young 
teachers pursue the study of psychology is to be found in the 
inherently uninteresting character of most treatises on this 
subject. Lindner is always interesting. His explanations 
are always lucid, pointed, and self-consistent, while every 
department of science and of experience has yielded its 
choicest facts to enrich the content of his book. 

It is well known to every American student of peda- 
gogics in G-ermany, that the greatest activity in pedagogical 
thought in that country is to be found among the members of 
the Herbartian school. They are attacking all important lines 
of educational thought with the greatest vigor, and are fast 
reducing education to a true science. The great secret of 
their aggression and efficiency is to be found in the fact that 
they have a vital psychology, one that shows the genesis, and 
the development of thought and feeling and will, thus reveal- 
ing in clear light the necessary stages of a rational educa- 
tion. Starting with the given in every department of men- 
tal life, they point the way to what should be. Perhaps the 
best and most popular exponent of this school of psycholog- 
ical thought is Professor Lindner, whose work is characterized 
by great pedagogical skill, both in statement and in arrange- 
ment for practical mastery. One reason, therefore, for the 
translation of this book is that English speaking students 
may have the opportunity of drinking at these living foun- 
tains of psychological truth. 



TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. V 

While this volume is a direct inspiration to the teacher, 
it is at the same time, perhaps, the best introduction ever 
written to the higher realms of thought. On almost every 
page there is an incitation to further study, and the whole 
book is a fine illustration of the beauty and value of a truly 
philosophical investigation. Starting with known and uni- 
versally recognized facts, the subject is developed step by 
step, with ample and apt illustration, being always free from 
dogmatism or befogging statements. 

For the rest, no student can study these magnificent 
chapters on thought and desire and will without being 
impressed with the marvels of his own being, and strength- 
ened by his clear view into the psychological beginnings and 
growth of passions and all aberrations of character. 

It is in the belief, finally, that this great and good book 
will prove a lasting blessing to him who reads, that the trans- 
lation is offered to the public. 

CHAS. DeGARMO. 
Nokmal, III., September, 1889. 



PREFACE 



MORE than a quarter of a century has elapsed since this 
book began its rounds among the schools and the 
educated public. Its path had not been smoothed, 
and many a prejudice was to be overcome. But supported 
by the confidence manifested by the teaching world, it has 
gained a firm foothold in our schools and institutions, and 
now begins its eighth round with renewed courage, hoping for 
like friendly reception. The author is conscious of having 
used a free hand in improving the successive editions, and 
performs a pleasant duty when he thankfully acknowledges 
the assistance of all those colleagues who have contributed 
to the perfection of the book. 

As a reminder of its origin, the words with which the 
first edition of this book was introduced, may fitly find a 
place here: 

" As I offer these pages, — the result of many years of 
study and pedagogical observation, — to the judgment of the 
public, as well as to the appropriate regard of a royal educa- 
tional department, I regard it my duty to say but little con- 
cerning the purpose and plan of the same. The motive to 
the preparation and publication of this volume was a double 
one. The first was the experience, to me sufficiently clear, 
that the existing psychological text-books, however valuable 
they may be, leave much to be desired in regard to compre- 
hensibility and incitation to original thought. An attempt to 



PREFACE. vii 

remedy these lacks would, therefore, appear desirable. The 
second motive was the conviction that in empirical psychol- 
ogy one can and should have regard to those real explanations 
which lie in the facts and which can be derived without met- 
aphysical exposition; and, further, that one has no reason 
whatever to limit himself to mere verbal explanations — for 
what else does the old doctrine of the so-called faculties offer? 

1 ' If empirical psychology is to offer not only an aggrega- 
tion of facts, but is to lead to the study of philosophy, it must, 
though not philosophy itself, at least provide a foretaste of 
the same, must guard against all incompleteness and super- 
ficiality by the earnestness of its investigation. In this 
regard, nothing could be more injudicious than a presenta- 
tion of results without sufficient grounding, without organic 
development. Therefore, the author has chosen in this work 
that genetic method which, proceeding from the known and 
unquestioned facts of common consciousness, seeks to develop 
the psychological laws which condition these facts, and which 
are inductively derivable from them, whereby nothing shall 
be set down which, for every unprejudiced and thinking man, 
does not follow from results already obtained in connection 
with these facts. In this way, not only positive results in 
knowledge are to be produced, but also an abiding interest 
in connected investigation leading to these results; for in the 
awakening of this interest consists, finally, the chief prepa- 
ration for the study of philosophy. 

' < In regard to the relation which this work bears to psy- 
chological literature, it may be said that, for that conception 
of empirical psychology which is here the ruling one, almost 
the only serviceable points of relation are to be found among 
the thinkers of the Herbartian school. With the latter, how- 
ever, the connections are to be met with as often as could be 
wished. Herbart's standpoint was that of empirical psychol- 
ogy; only this psychology works without metaphysical or 



viii PREFACE. 

mathematical tools. In regard to this point, llerbart him- 
self says, < I rest not alone upon the single point of the ego, 
but my basis is as broad as all experience ' (Preface to Psy- 
chology as a Science). 

1 < And herewith I commit this book to the public. It is, 
above all, a manual of instruction, and should be regarded as 
such. It was, therefore, the comprehensibility of expression 
to which I felt obliged to direct my most careful attention, 
all the more because I am convinced that the most abstract 
truths may be clothed in simple words just as far as they 
have been clearly thought, and that true scientific treatment 
is injured by nothing more than by ingenious pomposity of 
words, and by phrases behind which stands no thought. How 
far I have succeeded in my task ' to bring the doctrines of 
psychology into a form accessible to the common understand- 
ing, founded on facts and illustrated by examples/ those may 
judge to whom, according to their relations to the school and 
to science, this judgment is committed." 

Sf* Ja o U Tl' 18 1 L Dr. G. A. LINDNER. 

Prague, October, 1885, 



CONTENTS. 



INTRODUCTION, 
i. 

. PSYCHOLOGY IN GENERAL. 

SECTION PAGE 

§ 1. Consciousness ------ i 

§ 2. The Soul ------- 2 

§ 3. Body and Soul ------ 4 

§ 4. Empurical Psychology - - - - 5 

§ 5. Principles of Empirical Psychology - - - 8 

§ 6. Method of Empirical Psychology - - - 10 

II. 

THE INTERACTION BETWEEN BODY AND SOUL. 

§ 7. Facts 13 

§ 8. The Nervous System - - - - - -15 

§ 9. Centralization of the Nervous System - - 17 

§ 10. Possibility of Interaction Between Body and Soul. 

False Views Regarding It - - - - 20 

§ 11. Nervous System and Soul Life - - 21 

g 12. Results of the Interaction of Body and Soul - 25 

III. 
PSYCHOLOGY PROPER. 

§ 13. Threefold Division of Psychology - - - 29 



CONTENTS. 

PART I. 
KNOWLEDGE. 



CHAPTER I. 



THE PRODUCTION OF SENSE-CONCEPTS. 

SECTION PAGE 

§ 14. Sensation - - - - - - -32 

§ 15. Content, Strength, and Tone of Sensation - 34 
§ 16. Relation Between Stimulus and Sensation. Psycho- 
logical, Law - - - - - - 36 

§ 17. The Two Chief Classes of Sensation 41 

§ 18. Sensations of the Body - - - - 43 

§ 19. Sensation Arising from the Senses 46 

§ 20. Sense of Touch - . - - - - 48 

§ 21. Chemical Senses ----- 51 

§ 22. Hearing ------- 53 

§ 23. Seeing ------- 56 

§ 24. Sense Contribution to Knowledge - - 62 

§ 25. Bodily Movements ----- 65 

§ 26. The Sense-Perception - - - - 68 



CHAPTER II. 

REPRODUCTION OF CONCEPTS. WHAT BECOMES OF 

THEM. 

§ 27. Clear and Obscure Consciousness - - 71 

§ 28. Fundamental Laws for the Reciprocal Action of Con- 
cepts - - - - - - -76 

§ 29. Arrest in Particular ----- 78 

§ 30. Reproduction of Concepts - - - - 81 

§31. Special Laws of Reproduction 84 

§ 32. Reproduction of the Series - - - 86 

§ 33. Significance of the Series Form 90 

§ 34. Reproductions and Sensations - - - 94 



CONTENTS. xt 

SECTION PAGE 

§ 35. Keproduction of Movements - - - - 97 

§ 36. Memory - - - - - - -99 

§ 37. Kinds of Memory ----- 101 

§ 38. Course of Development in Memory - - - 104 

§ 39. The Imagination ----- 106 

§ 40. Significance of Imagination for Instruction and 

Moral, Training ----- 109 

§ 41. The Concept of Time - - - - 111 

§ 42. The Concept of Space. The Space Series - 113 

§ 43. Experience in Space ----- hq 

§ 44. Concepts as Psychical Powers. Psychological Culture 121 

§ 45. Apperception ------ 123 

§ 46. Significance of Apperception. Attention - 126 

§ 47. Fate of Concepts. Review and Results - - 128 



CHAPTER HI. 

THE* INTELLECT. 

§ 48. Thinking in General - 131 

§ 49. The Judgment ------ 133 

§ 50. The Syllogism - 136 

§ 51. Truth of the Judgment - 139 

§ 52. The Formation of Notions - 140 

§ 53. Kinds of Notions ----- 143 

§ 54. Speech and Thought - 145 

§ 55. Rise and Development of Language - - 148 

§ 56. Development of the Human Understanding - 151 

§ 57. Fancy ------- 153 



CHAPTER IV. 

SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 

§ 58. The Ego as Concept of the Body - - 156 

§ 59, The Ego as Meeting-Place of Concepts - - 158 

§ 6O0 The Historical Ego ----- 161 

§6L " We" as Social Ego - - - - 164 

§ 62, The Inner Sense ----- 166 



xli CONTENTS. 

PART II. 
THE FEELINGS. 



SECTION PAGE 

§ 63. How Feelings Arise - - - - 169 

§ 64. Content, Tone, Strength, and Duration of Feelings 172 
§ 65. Feelings and Concepts ----- 174 

§ 66. Classification of Feelings - 175 

§ 67. The Universal, or Formal Feelings - - 177 

§ 68. Sensuous Feelings ----- 179 

§ 69. Other Lower Feelings - - - ; - 182 

§ 70. Higher Feelings ----- 184 

§ 71. Intellectual Feelings - 186 

§ 72. ^Esthetic Feelings ----- 188 

§ 73. ^Esthetic Feeling in Its Elements and as a Whole, 

Form and Content of the Beautiful - 191 

§ 74. iEsTHETic Taste ----- 194 

§ 75. Moral Feelings - - - - 196 

§ 76. Religious Feelings ----- 198 

§ 77. Personal, or Egoistic Feeling - 200 

§ 78. Sympathy ------ 202 

§ 79. Reciprocal Action of Feelings - 205 

§ 80. Violent Feelings, or Passions - 207 

§ 81, Classification of the Passions - 210 



PART III. 
STRIVING, OR IMPULSE TO ACTION, 



CHAPTER I. 



§ 82. Desire ------- 213 

§ 83. Satisfaction of Desires - 214 

§ 84. Relation of Striving to Thinking and Feeling 217 

§ 85. The Interaction of Desires - 219 



CONTENTS, xiii 

CHAPTER II. 
THE PARTICULAR FORMS OF DESIRE. 

SECTION PAGE 

§ 86. Classification of Desires - 222 

§ 87. Impulse ------- 224 

§ 88. Inclination and Propensity - 227 

§ 89. Ruling Passions ------ 229 

§ 90. The Growth of Passion; Its Rise and Decline - 231 

§ 91. Varieties of Passion ----- 234 

§ 92. Violent Emotion and Passion - 236 

CHAPTER III. 

WILL. 

§ 93. Will in General - - - - - 238 

§ 94. Development of Will - 240 

§ 95. Outward Effect of Will. Action and Deed - 242 

§ 96. Inward Effect of Will. Freedom in Mental States 245 

§ 97. Reflection and Self-Determination - - 247 

§ 98. Psychological Freedom - - - - - 218 

§ 99. Reason - - - - - - - 252 

§ 100. Character ------- 254 

§ 101. Imputation ------ 258 

§ 102. The Dream as a Prototype of Mental Disease - 261 

§ 103. Psychical Disturbances Within Healthy Mental 

Life ------- 264 

§ 104. Rise of Mental Diseases - 266 

§ 105. Chief Forms of Mental Disease - 269 
§ 106. Intensifying of Mental Activity Through Diseased 

Conditions ------ 273 



INTRODUCTION, 



I. 

PSYCHOLOGY IN GENERAL. 

I 1. CONSCIOUSNESS. 

That which is extended in space we call matter or mate- 
rial. A change in matter is motion. There are two necessary 
conditions of motion, time and space. The falling of a stone, 
the wilting of a leaf can not take place without space and time. 

Since space is essential to changes in matter, these 
changes may be termed extensive conditions of matter; in so 
far as they concern merely the outward conduct of matter, 
they appear only as the external conditions of the same. 

Hand in hand with the external, extensive, or space and 
time changes of things, go the internal, the intensive, or the 
mere time conditions, which we think of as belonging to the 
ultimate indivisible elements of matter called atoms. These 
inner conditions of the atoms are, of course, entirely with- 
drawn from our experience, for whatever falls within the 
range of our experience must of necessity be external. Not- 
withstanding, however, we must assume that the inner con- 
ditions of the atoms have changed, when we perceive a change 
in the outward aspect of the same, just as we assume the 
unchanged state of those inner qualities of matter, which 
are entirely unknown to us, so long as the outer conditions 
(effects, manifestations of force) do not change. 



2 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

There is but one group of internal conditions which does 
not elude our experience, but which is immediately accessible: 
these conditions are our own inner states; for we stand not 
without, but within this group. 

Our own inner, unext ended, time conditions, toe call men- 
tal states, or ideas; the totality of these is called conscious- 
ness; the interpenetration or synthesis of the same on all 
sides to the strict unity and oneness of the "I" is called 

SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 

§ 2. THE SOUL. 

That which self-observation teaches about consciousness 
may be reduced to three fundamental facts. 
There are given: 

1. A multitude of ideas (concepts), which come and go; 

2. The ever changing unity of the same, in the form of 
consciousness; 

3. The union of the successive states of consciousness 
into the oneness of self-consciousness, in the form of a single 
unchangeable ego, or I. 

The interpretation of these three fundamental facts has 
led to the assumption of a soid essence, or substance. 

We distinguish between a substance, or essence, and the 
conditions or states of the same. The essence ever endures, 
even though its states change. The essence to which all our 
ideas, and all of the inner conditions derived from them cleave, 
we ccdl the soid. Ideas are states of the soul — the soul is 
their bearer. 1 ) 

The unity and singleness of consciousness enables us to 
draw a conclusion as to the nature of the soul substance. 



1) In the technical language of philosophy, "essence" bears the 
name substance. States or qualities are called accidents; the relation 
between substance and its accidents, which in common language is 
characterized by the word "have," to possess, bears the name inher- 
ence, and is one of the hardest problems of metaphysics. 



THE SOUL. 3 

It might be either simple or compound; it might further be 
identical with the cause of the bodily changes, or different. 

The assumption of a many-membered bearer of soul 
states is excluded by the fact that all spiritual conditions, 
however changeable and contradictory they may be among 
themselves — the simultaneous as well as the successive — 
exhibit the highest degree of reciprocal attraction and inter- 
penetration. Our ego presents itself to us as one and indi- 
visible amidst all the changes of soul states, which would 
not be possible were the states of the soul, like those of 
objects, divided among different substances. The bearer of 
spiritual states must, therefore, be simple. 

Notwithstanding this, however, it might be one and the 
same with some one of those substances upon which the 
states of our body depend, since these are also to be thought 
^s simple. As a matter of fact, a distinguished thinker, 
the philosopher Leibnitz, claimed for each one of them the 
character of a representing essence. But that simple sub- 
stance which we have assumed as the bearer of the purely 
time conditions of our minds, must, under all circumstances, 
take such an exalted position among the primal substances of 
the body, that we are fully justified in distinguishing it from 
all elements of our body as a substance of a peculiar and 
higher kind, and in giving it a special name. This substance, 
of whose conditions alone we have immediate knowledge, 
and upon which the processes of our body must be projected 
through a chain of reciprocal actions in order to reach our 
consciousness, is the soul. It is, therefore, a simple sub- 
stance, or essence, different from the body, concerning whose 
further peculiarity and actual essence nothing more can be 
determined from the standpoint of experience. 1 ) 



1) The further elaboration of this subject, which forms one of 
the most difficult and most contested departments of philosophy, 
belongs not to empirical psychology, but to metaphysics. 



4 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

Remark. — The total inability to compare mental with material 
states cannot, merely on this account, furnish a reason for the assump- 
tion of a simple soul substance, because we do not know the inner 
states or conditions of matter (the analogue of our mental states). 
The true ground for this assumption is the unity of consciousness, — 
it is the fact that we unite simultaneous psychical conditions to the 
strictest unity, and that we relate the concepts of even the most 
remote periods of time to one and the same spiritual center — our 
ego. The materialistic view of the soul is not able to establish this 
point of unity which we find in the simple soul substance. 



I 3. BODY AND SOUL. 

We distinguish between body and soul in man. They 
stand over against each other as outer and inner, as sentient 
and spiritual, as compound and simple. Notwithstanding 
this opposition, however, they .are essentially related and 
they reciprocally condition each other. 

The living body presupposes a soul, and the soul presup-. 
poses a living body. The body from which the soul has de- 
parted is a mere "thing," and the disembodied soul is a mere 
."spirit." 

Aside from this connection in thought, experience shows 
us a series of most striking facts which exhibit the reciprocal 
dependence between body and soul, so that the two appear 
merely as the two different sides of one human being. Phi- 
losophy seeks to explain this double-sidedness. According 
as the unital or dual nature of man appears as a result of 
this explanation, the philosophical view will bear the char- 
acter of monism or dualism. 

Dualism regards body and soul as two fundamentally 
different things, which do not allow of reduction to a com- 
mon principle. Monism is either materialism or spiritualism 
(idealism) according as it seeks to explain the spiritual from 
the material, or the material from the spiritual. 



BODY AND SOUL. 5 

The conception of man according to experience proceeds 
from the fact that in the realm of experience we may dis- 
tinguish two large dissimilar groups of phenomena; (1) the 
group of phenomena which pertain to space and time; and 
(2) the group which pertain merely to time, the two stand- 
ing over against each other as outer and inner experience. 

Anthropology, or the science of man, falls, therefore, 
into somatology; i. e., the doctrine of the body; and into 
empirical psychology, i. e. , the doctrine of the soul. Each 
of these sciences will have regard to the other only in so far 
as is absolutely necessary to the understanding of the facts. 

Remark. — Since man is properly regarded as a microcosm, in that 
the general relations of the universe occur in man in smaller propor- 
tions (the human soul is formed in the image of God), any given view 
of the relation between the spiritual and the bodily in man is depend- 
ent upon the philosophical view which is held concerning the uni- 
verse, and is in a certain sense only a copy of the latter. Dualism 
as a fundamental philosophical conception was introduced into mod- 
ern philosophy by Descartes (f 1650), who assumed two separate sub- 
stances, the thinking substance, and the material substance (thought 
and extension). His successor, Spinoza, is the father of Monism, in 
that he taught that there is but one infinite substance, which exhibits 
itself to us from different sides as mind and nature. This thought 
was further extended in Schelling's philosophy of identity. In this 
system matter and mind stand side by side as different though equal 
forms of manifestation of one fundamental principle. The monism 
of Spinoza and Schelling separates into the spiritualistic branch, 
which finds its most extreme expression in Fichte's absolute ego, and 
into the realistic-materialistic branch, which begins with John Locke 
(f 1704), and has its most significant continuance in the philosophy of 
the French clearing-up period, as well as in modern materialism. 



I 4. EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

It is, in general, the problem of psychology to investi- 
gate the natural laws of soul life, and from these to explain 
the manifoldness of soul phenomena. In the solution of this 



6 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

problem either of two ways may be pursued: that of deduc- 
tion, which leads from the universal to the particular; or that 
of induction, which mounts from the particular to the univer- 
sal. The first way characterizes the path of specidation, upon 
which the philosophical sciences proceed; the latter way shows 
the course of experience, which the empirical sciences pursue. 

Accordingly, rational or speculative psychology as a part 
of philosophy is distinguished from empirical psychology as 
one of the sciences of experience. While the natural sciences 
with the help of the inductive method — founded by Bacon of 
Verulam (f 1626), and applied by Newton with such brilliant 
results — pursues its own way, entirely independent of meta- 
physical investigation, psychology has been treated, until 
very recent times, almost entirely as a philosophical doctrine, 
in that metaphysical theories which have been posited con- 
cerning existence in general ha*^e been applied to the soul. 
The process was a deductive one. It is on this account that 
as many psychologies have arisen as there are philosophical 
schools. 

In opposition to this conception, empirical psychology 
has set itself the task of proceeding from the particular facts 
of consciousness, and, in accordance with the method of 
induction, to base upon them an explanatory theory of soul 
life. Empirical psychology has this double advantage over 
the natural sciences: first, that these particular facts of con- 
sciousness as objects of inner experience are immediately 
accessible, whereas the objects of external experience in the 
natural sciences are only mediately known; i. e., by being 
brought to consciousness through the senses; and second, 
that the abundance of these facts is extraordinary, on account 
of the ever-changing events of soul life and of the multiplicity 
of minds. 

It finds itself at a disadvantage, however, in so far as the 
elements of psychological facts, on account of the unity of 



EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 7 

consciousness, are not given separate, but sometimes mani- 
fest such a complication that they become problems for psy- 
chology, though being its sources of knowledge. 1 ) 

While for outer experience everything divides according 
to space and time, and may be separated for clearness of 
human knowledge, the events of inner experience do indeed 
exhibit succession in time, but no juxtaposition in space. 
The knowledge of the original connection of the elements of 
soul life is, therefore, much more difficult than is the case 
with changes in space and time, and it need not, therefore, 
seem strange to us, that until the most recent times, the 
applicability of the causal notion to change in mental states 
has been entirely denied, and men were inclined to regard the 
faculties of the soul as powers which rule regardless of law. 

Notwithstanding these difficulties, the application of the 
natural history method of induction to the sphere of inner 
experience has proved itself particularly fruitful, especially 
since Herbart's revolutionizing investigations, so that the 
place of empirical psychology among the exact sciences can no 
longer be questioned. 

Remark 1. — Herbart's service accrues not only to rational, but 
also to empirical psychology, since his psychology is based, not so 
nmch on the single fact of self-consciousness, as upon the whole cir- 
cle of facts of common consciousness. He himself says, "I do not 
stand upon the single point of the ego, but my basis is as broad as all 
experience." (Preface to Psych, as Science.) In that Herbart applied 
calculus, that mighty implement of investigation in natural science, 
to the phenomena of the equipoise and movements of conceptions, he 
brought psychology nearer to the exact sciences. It is true that his 
calculations relate only to ideal magnitudes, and to ideal relations, so 



1) These complications assume extraordinary dimensions, be- 
cause on account of the continuance of conceptions in a united state, 
the constitution of our consciousness at a given moment is deter- 
mined, not alone by conceptions actually present, but also by those 
which have formerly been present, so that the whole psychical past 
projects into the immediate present. 



8 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

that one could only imagine an application of the same to concrete 
psychical processes, but an attempt has recently been made to reckon 
with actually measurable magnitudes within the realm of mental life, 
and to produce, by way of experience, a measuring unit for the 
strength of conceptions. This is the theme of Psycho-physics, by G. 
F. Fechner (Elements of Psycho-physics, 2 part, Leipzig, 1860), whose 
avowed purpose is "The fixing of the measure of psychical magni- 
tudes." 

Remark 2. — Empirical psychology as an exact science is independ- 
ent of all fundamental metaphysical views as to the essence of the soul 
{I 2), and from the beginning it renounced the solution of those 
questions which presuppose such a fundamental view. In what the 
essence of the soul actually consists, how it enters into reciprocal 
action with the body as known in experience, how the simplicity of 
its essence is compatible with the multiplicity of its states, and in 
what the state of conceiving really consists, will be explained by 
empirical psychology, just as little as physics is able to answer the 
questions, What is matter? What is force? How are they related? 
But just as there remains to physics, notwithstanding this, a wide 
field of investigation in the kingdom of medfated natural phenomena, 
just so there remains a broad field of investigation open to empirical 
psychology, which is entirely independent of any metaphysical 
view concerning the essence of the soul. How, through the aid of 
the senses, sensations and perceptions arise, how they are treasured 
up through the memory, changed through the imagination, elaborated 
through the understanding; how the struggle of concepts calls forth 
the various states of mind, and what laws obtain here, — concerning 
these things much indeed may be imparted, quite independently of 
every fundamental speculative view. Empirical psychology will gain 
through the breadth of its investigations that which it may perhaps 
lose in depth; it will not make rational psychology superfluous, but 
will be rather a preparation for it, as well as for the study of philos- 
ophy in general. 



$ 5. THE PRINCIPLES OF EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

The principles (sources of knowledge) of empirical psy- 
chology are the facts of inner experience. These are gained 
by means of observation and experiment. 



EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY 9 

The observation is a fourfold one, since its subject as 
well as its object is double; i. e., is either our own or another 
ego. We must distinguish, therefore, (a) our own observa- 
tion of self, (b) our own observation of others, (c) the self- 
observation of others, (d) the observation of others on others. 
The last two kinds can come to us naturally only in the form 
of communications. 

Self-observation is the most important source of psy- 
chological investigations. Only in this way do we learn the 
states of the mind in an immediate manner, in order after- 
ward, mediately to conclude concerning the mental states of 
others from manifestations and communications. Yet this is 
subject to peculiar difficulties, since the observed object, the 
soul, does not lie before us, separated, like an object of outer 
experience, but coincides with the observing subject, the ego. 
The latter must, therefore, separate itself into an observing 
and an observed part, of which the first, the deeper, with- 
draws itself from observation; for if one should wish to make 
this also an object of observation, he would have to attempt 
another division of the ego, in which case the observing part 
would have again to withdraw itself from observation, and so 
on. Self-observation can, therefore, penetrate only to a cer- 
tain depth, and there are phases of consciousness in which 
the plummet never touches bottom. Furthermore, there are 
conditions which one can not observe in himself, such as the 
beginnings of consciousness in childhood, the passions, or vio- 
lent emotions, when we are "beside ourselves," and the vari- 
ous extreme and anomalous states of mind which appear occa- 
sionally in individuals only as a product of an extremely pecu- 
liar individual development (diseased states of the mind, etc.). 

The observation of others must, therefore, be added as 
supplementary. This widens the circle of psychical facts 
beyond the narrow limits of the individual. We learn to 
know different individuals and in the most varied psychical 



10 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

conditions. By this means the influence of inner and outer 
factors of bodily constitution, of temperament, of education, 
of association and calling, upon the psychical development 
is made manifest. In this connection it is particularly 
instructive to observe children and savages, insane people 
and criminals, persons in whom one sense is wanting, and 
other "odd" people. (Animal psychology, Kaspar Hauser. — 
Consult the works of Ideler, Pitaval, Knigge, Adel, Mau- 
chart, Engel, Buelow, and others.) 

Bemark. — Of all the vast number of psychological facts, only a 
few will serve as starting points for an inductive investigation, since 
most of these facts are only the expression of a highly complicated 
psychological state. It appears necessary, rather, to simplify the 
psychical data through designedly produced situations, and through 
alternate exclusion and production of individual psychological factors 
in order to establish their influence upon the whole product. Exper- 
iment, which plays so important a part in the field of outer expe- 
rience, is consequently not to be excluded from psychology. It has 
essentially contributed to the disclosing of those elements of all soul 
life, namely, sensations, according to their different peculiarities and 
the laws of our knowledge. The accessibility of experiment in the 
territory of derived states is indeed very limited, because the deter- 
mination of simple elements is very difficult on account of the extraor- 
dinary changeableness of the soul phenomena. 



I 6. THE METHOD OF EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

The inductive process assumes a special form in the 
various inductive sciences, according to the particular nature 
of any given science. In natural history it becomes a descrip- 
tive and classifying process; in physics, an explanation of 
facts by means of laws, and partly by hypotheses; in anat- 
omy, a dissection, or separation of the manifold, while in 
physiology it becomes a teleological and genetic method. 
Empirical psychology employs just so much of each of these 
methods as its nature demands. 



METHOD. 11 

As a natural history of the soul, it seeks above all to 
bring the phenomena of consciousness into characteristic 
groups according to similarity, to describe and classify these 
groups as types of soul activity. This in particular was the 
standpoint of the old empirical psychology, which hyposta- 
sized these types into faculties,!) and thought in thus doing 
to have fulfilled its mission. 

They forget that the faculties of the soul are mere 
abstractions of scientific thought, and not in any way objects 
of natural history, or anything real. The new psychology 
retains this distinction of faculties (Understanding, Eeason. 
Memory, Imagination, etc.) that the learner may get his 
general bearings, but it can in no wise consider its work as 
finished when it has made these distinctions. 

As an anatomy of consciousness empirical psychology 
separates the highly complicated phenomena of the same 
into its non-divisible elements — namely, into concepts — and 
as physiology of the soul it seeks, by means of the genetic 
method, to prove how, through the reciprocal action of the 
concepts in the course of the psychical development of indi- 
viduals and of peoples, the various permanent and change- 
able conditions of consciousness are formed. This proof will 
be successfully made only when, as physics of the soul, it 
seeks to exhibit the laws according to which the reciprocal 
action of concepts is governed. Wherever notions of mag- 

1) It is important for the beginner to get a clear notion of what is 
meant by liypostasizing types of mental activities into faculties, for 
the vocabulary of the old psychology is still employed and there is 
still constant danger of falling into this error. It would appear that 
a constant use of the terms employed in classifying the various phases 
of mental activity, such as memory, imagination, perception, will, 
sensibilities, etc., led men to think of the mind as an organism in 
which memory, imagi7iation, will, etc., were real component parts, or 
organs, just as the arm, the foot, the mouth, are organs of the body. 
In this way the type of mental activity, called memory, for instance, 
was made or hypostasized into a real thing or organ of the mind. 
This view is a most mischievous one for true psychology, since it 
has led, and in many minds still leads, to the barest formalism. 

— Translator. 



12 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

nitude appear, mathematics , so important in physics, may- 
be applied; and where the facts are supported by a theoret- 
ical view, the hypothesis may be proposed in order to be able 
to test their validity by the consequences which follow from 
the hypothesis. That which follows from hypothesis, how- 
ever, can of course not be taken as positive evidence. 

Since empirical psychology as an inductive science is so 
new, a complete carrying-out of these combined methods in 
all branches of the intricate life of the soul can not at this 
time be expected. 

Remark. — The credit of having critically shown the insufficiency 
of "faculties" for an explanatory view of soul life, belongs likewise 
to Herbart, who on various occasions declared against these "mytho- 
logical essences." Along the way opened by him follow M. W. Dro- 
bisch (Empirical Psychology and Natural History Method, and First 
Elements of Mathematical Psychology), Th. Waitz (Text-book of 
Psychology as Natural Science), W. F. Volkmann (Elements of Psy- 
chology from the standpoint of philosophical Realism, and according 
to the Genetic Method, particularly the second edition, called "Text 
Book of Psychology," Coethen 1875, which is really a new encyclo- 
pedic work, summarizing all the former efforts of the author), J. W. 
Nahlowski, C. S. Cornelius, Schilling, Lazarus (Life of the Soul, in 
monographs, Periodical for Race Psychology, and Science of Lan- 
guage), Ballauf (Elements of Psychology), and many more. These 
men are met by the efforts of those who further Psychology from 
the side of Natural Science, — Hermann Lotze (Medical Psychology), 
Theodore Fechner, the father of Psycho-Physics, C. Weber (Sense of 
Touch), H. Helmholtz (Eye and Ear), Purkymie (Whole Department 
of the Senses), Wundt (Outlines of Physiological Psychology), 
together with many others. Prof. Robert Zimmermann (Philosoph- 
ical Propaedeutic, second edition) also treats of Psychology accord- 
ing to analogy with natural science. C. Benecke (Text-book of 
Psychology as Natural Science, and Pragmatical Psychology, with 
other writings), immediately following Herbart, but along essentially 
deviating lines, has directed Psychology to the method of treatment 
pursued in the natural sciences. J. II. Fichte (Anthropology, Doc- 
trine of the Human Soul, newly founded in the way of Natural Sci- 
ence) pursues the same end, so highly esteemed to-day, yet not by 
the way of induction, but by that of deduction. 



II. 

THE INTERACTION BETWEEN BODY AND SOUL. 

I 7. FACTS. 

Mental states or activities are conditioned in their origin 
and course by processes which go on within our bodily organ- 
ism. All knowledge of changes, or of events taking place 
around us, comes to us only through physical excitations, 
which, impelled by external occurrence, affect our organs of 
sense. All activity from within outward, wherein our mas- 
tery over the external world manifests itself, arises only 
through the movement of members of the body, which is called 
forth by certain acts of the soul (Will). 

Soul and body, spirit and material organism, work to- 
gether involuntarily. The body continually affects the mind, 
in that the material changes which accompany the continu- 
ance of the life-process are reflected in our consciousness, and 
thus fill a significant part of this consciousness; the body 
affects the mind also, in that the bodily assistance necessary 
in all mental acts or states is directly dependent upon the 
normal or the disturbed condition of the nervous system, 
and indirectly upon the general condition of the whole body. 

The mind in turn reacts upon the body, in that all 
mental states, entirely aside from voluntary movements, are 
manifested in minute bodily movements, and are reflected 
now in stronger, now in weaker affections of the organic 
bodily functions. It is upon these delicate movements that 
play of feature and its permanent record, the physiognomy, 



14 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

rest. Upon this influence depends, also, that promotion or 
depression of the bodily welfare which, proceeding from the 
soul, rules the body. Laughing and crying, emotions and 
passions belong here. Contentment of soul is a source of 
bodily health; passions and emotions which too powerfully 
affect the mind injure the body also. 

The body appears, therefore, to be < ' a system of organ- 
ized material expedients, calculated to concentrate all sorts 
of excitations in such a manner that they work upon the 
soul, and on the other hand to distribute its impulses again 
upon the surrounding world" (Lotze). The body is an organ- 
ism whose noblest organ, the nervous system, has the func- 
tion of accompanying all conditions of the soul with sympa- 
thetic vibrations, after the analogy of the sounding-board. 
This accompaniment of mental by bodily conditions may be 
called physiological resonance. It is not without its reflex 
action upon the soul (? 12). 

Remark. — The dependence of the soul upon the body is great. 
The condition of depressed or elated vital activity is imparted from 
the body to the mind. In the morning we are more disposed to men- 
tal work than in the evening. Mens sana habitat in corpore sano. 
Climate and temperature, food and poison, the indulgence in spir- 
ituous drinks — all of these indirectly affect the mind through the 
body. Hunger produces delirium. The sharp fluids in the stomach 
of the wolf and the tiger excite cruelty and a ferocious nature. Men 
are predisposed to many crimes and passions on account of the 
organic nature of the body. We see the dependence of the soul 
upon the body most clearly in the various bodily stages arising from 
age. The maximum and the minimum of developed vital activity, 
the former in middle, and the latter in old age, are the same for the 
body as for the mind. The rare exceptions where men of extraordi- 
nary mental power still retain their mental ability in old age, as a 
Sophocles, a Voltaire, a Goethe, an Alexander von Humboldt, do not 
destroy, but only prove the rule. 

But, on the other hand, the body depends in a high degree 
upon the soul. Its health or sickness, its beauty or ugliness are not 



THE NERVOUS SYSTEM. 15 

alone the product of fixed natural forces, but are in great degree the 
creation of the soul itself. The mind assists the body in its growth 
and in its decay. Facts of medicine and physiognomy prove this. 
Our judgment of a man is chiefly determined by his physiognomy, 
because we ascribe this to the character of his mind. The errors 
which we make, in that we mistake a stupid fellow with a high brow 
for a genius, or a scamp with a smooth face for a gentleman, do not 
disprove the general law of the dependence of bodily form upon men- 
tal character, any more than the fact that Socrates, one of the noblest 
of men, was not more distinguished for external beauty. 



I 8. THE NERVOUS SYSTEM. 

The nervous system is the organ of interaction between 
body and mind. The elements of the nervous system may, in 
anatomical regard, be reduced to two essentially different 
structures. These are nerve filaments, or fibers, and nerve 
cells. 

Out of many of these parallel nerve filaments, or fibers, 
arise the nerves themselves. They branch out through the 
whole body, terminating at its surface, and form the periph- 
eral parts of the nervous system, whereas the nerve tex- 
tures arising from the accumulation of nerve cells, or gangli- 
ons, constitute the central parts of the nervous system. 

This anatomical difference of structure corresponds to 
physiological function. It is the office of the nerve filaments 
to transmit in the direction of their length the conditions of 
excitation which have been produced in them and to effect 
the contraction of muscles, or to arouse the sensibility of the 
central parts. The nerve fibers, therefore, are extended from 
some peripheral structure of the body to a nerve center. If 
the peripheral structure is a muscle, the transmission of the 
excitation is in centrifugal direction; i. e., from the center 
towards the surface, and ends in a contraction of the muscles; 
that is to say, in a movement. If, on the contrary, the periph- 



16 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

eral structure is a sensitive place on the skin, the transmission 
is in centripetal direction; i. e., from the surface toward the 
nerve center, and ends in a sensation; in other words, it 
realizes its power to arouse a sensation in the mind. 

There are, therefore, two kinds of nerve fibers, those 
which conduct conditions of excitation centrifugally, and 
produce movements; and those which conduct conditions of 
excitation centripetally, and arouse sensation. The first are 
called motor nerves, or nerves of motion; the second are 
called sensory nerves, or nerves of sensation. 

The state of excitation in nerves consists of a change in 
their electro-motive activity, in that, according to recent 
investigations, electric currents continually pass through the 
living nerve, even though it be inactive, and the electric cur- 
rent suffers a negative vibration in the transition from a 
quiet to an active state. 

'Remark 1. — The condition of nervous excitation may be brought 
about in any way by which the molecular equipoise of the nerves is 
suddenly disturbed; that is, mechanically, by means of chemical 
agents, or by means of the so-called imponderables (light, heat, and 
electricity). The speed with which the condition of excitation is 
transmitted, is for nerves in the living human body about sixty-one 
meters, and for the nerves of the frog, about twenty meters a second. 
The function of the ganglions is not so exactly ascertained as that 
of the nerve fibers. So much, however, may with safety be assumed, 
that the conditions of excitation of different nerve fibers can enter 
into reciprocal interaction only through the agency of the ganglions. 
G. H. Lewes traces the functional difference between nerves and gangli- 
ons to a difference in property or quality of the two. The property 
of nerves he calls neurility; that of ganglions, sensibility. (Compare 
G. H. Lewes, "The Physiology of Daily Life," Chap. 8.) 

Remark 2. — The question of electric currents in nerves when in 
a quiescent state, which, since Galvani's investigations, and particu- 
larly since the discovery of the electric current in the frog, has been 
solved by the experiments of du Bois-Reymond. This investigator 



CENTRALIZATION OF THE NERVOUS SYSTEM. 17 

obtained direct proof of the nerve stream by means of a highly sen- 
sitive multiplicator of 24,160 coils. The result was contrary to expec- 
tation. It was supposed that the inactive nerve would allow the 
magnetic needle to remain at rest, and that a deviation of the needle 
would only occur when the so-called nerve principle was aroused into 
activity. The contrary, however, was shown to be the fact, namely, 
that the quiescent nerve has a constant electro-motive activity, and 
that through excitation it experiences a change in a negative sense. 
Also the involuntary contraction or a cramping of muscles (tetanus) 
in the living human body is connected with negative fluctuations, as 
one may likewise convince himself with the multiplicator. (Compare 
the very diffuse paper of C. du Bois-Reymond on "Animal Elec- 
tricity.") 



I 9. CENTRALIZATION OF THE NERVOUS SYSTEM. 

A certain centralization of the whole nervous system is 
brought about by the system of ganglions, which are accumu- 
lated at certain points in the body and connected by nerve 
fibers. 

This centralization is, however, a double one; first, in 
the strict sense of the word, a system which has its seat in 
the brain and spinal cord, and which with its peripheral 
subdivisions forms the so-called cerebro spinal system; and 
second, in a less strict sense, that which, independent of 
the cerebro spinal system, has its center in scattered gan- 
glions, and is called the sympathetic nervous system. Only 
the first of these stands in immediate relation to mental 
activity. 

The spinal cord is the first place of entrance and exit 
for the greater part of the peripheral cerebro nerves. Each 
nerve divides, just before its entrance, into two parts or 
roots, the anterior root containing the motor fibers of the 
united nerve, and the posterior root the sensory fibers. 

In this way thirty-one pairs of roots enter the opening 
of the spinal column between the successive vertebrae. 



18 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

The spinal cord, whose cross-section exposes a reddish, 
gangiion-like nerve mass, the so-called gray matter, performs 
the double office of a center, and of a conductor. It is a 
center because it can change the sense excitations of the 
sensory root into motor impulses through the anterior root, 
by transmitting the same through a cross connection, the 
excitation not having reached the brain or affected the 
mind at all, as has been observed on decapitated animals, 
and on those from which the brain has been removed. This 
transfer of an excitation of sensation into one of motion pro- 
duces the so-called reflex action. The spinal cord is also a 
conductor, because it leads the nervous excitation in the 
direction of its length, from ganglion to ganglion along well 
insulated tracks to the higher centers, and finally to the 
brain itself. 

The brain is a center of the highest order, the place to 
which nerve excitation must be projected in order to reach 
our consciousness. But the brain consists of parts which 
are anatomically and physiologically differentiated. We may 
distinguish particularly between the brain elongation (medulla 
oblongata) which is connected with the spinal cord and. 
which is sensitive to nerve excitations, and the pair of non- 
sensitive, globe-like parts, the so-called hemispheres of the 
large brain. Since the medulla oblongata is to be regarded 
as a continuation of the spinal cord, we find here also the 
two functions of lateral and longitudinal conduction peculiar 
to the spinal cord. Reflex action is here also produced, 
only it is extended to the whole complex of motor nerves, 
and thus brings about in the reflex movements a greater reg- 
ularity, and a certain automatic character. 

The brain has, however, the fourth function of giving 
bodily expression to the higher mental activities, in which 
regard the hemispheres, on account of their great mass, 
appear to play an important role. But the particular office 



CENTRALIZATION OF THE NERVOUS SYSTEM. 19 

♦ of the brain and of its various parts is still shrouded in 
darkness. D 

Remark 1. — Reflex action shows us, in a simple case, how sense 
excitations are changed into motor impulses through the activity of 
the nerve centers. All soul life, in a last analysis, consists in this, — 
that we receive impressions from without, and react against them by 
means of motions. In reflex action one of these acts follows the 
other immediately. A fly lights on the hand and immediately the hand 
is withdrawn; an object flies before the eye, and the eye closes. If a 
whole series of connected motions follow the external impulse, we 
have the automatic movements, whose details are likewise withdrawn 
from the immediate influence of our consciousness; as, for example, 
the movements in breathing, for which there is a special center in the 
medulla oblongata, the so-called life-point, whose injury causes the 
breathing process, and consequently life itself, to cease. In the vol- 
untary acts of man, movement does not blindly follow sensation, but 
between the two there comes a third, namely, a series of reflections, 
which involve the agency of the mind. 

Remark 2. — The sympathetic nervous system is superior to the 
vegetative functions of our organism, the latter being almost entirely 
withdrawn from our consciousness, on account of their. dependence 
upon the cerebro spinal system. The sympathetic system embraces 
the contractile structures of this sphere, especially the muscles of 
the blood vessels and the heart, of the gland ducts and the alimen- 
tary canal, and also of the reproductive glands. We are to think of 
the activities of this system as reflex movements, in that sense 
excitations arising from the life process are transformed into service- 
able motor impulses in the scattered ganglions of this system. The 
central points of this system are distributed among the respective 
contractile structures. 

Remark 3. — Since sensibility is a property of the nerve centers, 
which can be aroused only by a condition of excitation in a nerve 
fiber, in no case directly by the cause of the excitation, the apparent 

1) So great is this darkness that Burdach, who has gathered 
with great diligence the appropriate pathological facts, remarks that 
experience has taught that there is no part of the brain whose abnor- 
mal condition has not effected a disturbance of mental activity; on 
the other hand, that there is no part whose abnormal condition has not 
left mental activity undisturbed. 



20 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

paradox is explained, that direct excitation of the structure of the 
hemispheres produces no sensation in the soul; i. e., that the seat of 
sensation is itself dead to sensation. 



\ 10. POSSIBILITY OF INTERACTION BETWEEN BODY AND 
SOUL. FALSE VIEWS REGARDING IT. 

The interaction between soul and body arises, in that 
the soul influences the molecules of the brain, and receives 
impressions from them. How is this possible, since soul and 
body as spiritual and material essences are fundamentally 
different? Although the answer to this question really belongs 
to metaphysics and not to psychology, yet we shall now dis- 
close a few erroneous presuppositions which have surrounded 
the subject with needless difficulties. 

One false presupposition is that cause and effect must 
be similar. Even within nature we often see the opposite, 
since, for example, motion is transformed into heat, electric- 
ity into motion, or into chemical results. 

It is further erroneous to assume that, in the interaction 
between soul and body, dissimilars do work upon each other. 
Sense-concepts are only dissimilar to movements of matter, 
in that the former are inner, and the latter are outer states 
or conditions of real essences. D These real essences which 
lie at the basis now of concepts, now of material phenomena, 
are supersensible and do not form objects of experience. It 
would be hasty, therefore, to assume their total dissimilarity. 



1) According to Herbart, the truly existing (the actual) consists 
of a plurality of simple essences, among which the soul essence 
assumes an exalted place without being fundamentally different from 
the others. The coordination of real essences (monads) is carried 
still further by Leibnitz, with whom all monads are, in a certain 
sense, representing substances; and even with Lotze, real supersen- 
sible essences, similar to the soul substance, lie at the basis of matter. 
"Body and mind are, in the customary acceptations of the terms, 
not totally unlike (disparate); they are different, but coordinate 
aspects of the notion of substance." (Med. Psych, p. 74.) 



NERVOUS SYSTEM AND SOUL LIFE. 21 

It is likewise an erroneous presupposition to think that 
interaction between the atoms of a material body is not 
enshrouded in as much darkness, and as far removed from 
exact knowledge, as the interaction between body and soul. 
All explanation of natural processes relates merely to the 
resolution of complex combinations of reciprocal actions into 
their simple elements, and to the proof of the mediations 
and connecting links upon which the natural process depends; 
but explanation reaches its end as soon as the simple and 
unmediated is reached. It is just as difficult to explain how 
an atom of sulphur acts upon an atom of quicksilver to make 
cinnabar, as it is to tell how the simple essences of the brain 
affect the immaterial soul so as to cause it to produce a concept. 

Finally, the erroneous notion must be refuted, that, 
through the action of the body upon the mind, the external 
exciting causes as such are transmitted in unchanged form 
to the mind, so that, for example, light and color would exist 
without, as well as within us. All that the external exciting 
cause can do in this regard consists rather in the fact that it 
produces a sum of conditions under which the soul, acting 
according to its inner nature, is able to produce a certain 
parallel inner state called a concept, which answers exactly 
to these conditions. Outside of the soul, that, for example, 
which we call "light" is nothing but colorless and lightless 
vibration, having a certain wave length and a certain dura- 
tion. These vibrations obey mathematical laws, and may 
therefore be studied by the blind. Within the soul, light is 
an original inner state, a concept which can not be denned, 
but only experienced. 



§ 11. NERVOUS SYSTEM AND SOUL LIFE. 

The nerves are conductors which mediate the intercourse 
between the soul and the external world. The sensory nerves 



22 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

announce the occurrences of the external world to the soul 
in the form of nerve excitations. The soul translates the 
effect of these excitations into a language peculiar to itself — 
into sensations, because it is impelled by those qualitatively 
and quantitatively determined effects to create sensations 
correspondingly determined. The motor nerves are conduc- 
tors for the impulses which, proceeding from the soul, cause 
the muscles of the body to execute peculiar movements, 
thereby fulfilling the Will of the soul, in that the Will is 
translated into actions and deeds. 

The excitations of sensations which simultaneously and 
successively move along the nerves toward the central parts 
of the nervous system, are, for the most part, extremely 
complicated, and are compounded from numberless primitive 
impressions. For example, in seeing, every point of the field 
of vision; in touching, every elevation or depression of the 
surface which is felt; in hearing, every individual tone, exer- 
cises its peculiar effect upon the peripheral ends of the nerves. 
These manifold impressions come together in the central 
parts of the nervous system, where, through reciprocal inter- 
action, they experience the first degree of elaboration and 
transformation, after which they first begin to affect the soul. 
The combination or synthesis of the single, primitive sense 
impressions into organized total impressions corresponding 
to the circumstances of the external world, is what may be 
regarded as the first service of the brain as the chief nerve 
center. D 

The motor impulses which are to execute the Will of the 
soul are, in any individual case, extremely complicated, since 
they usually affect a large surface of the muscular system, 

1) This service is affected especially by space and time relations 
which are essentially supplemented by the assistance of the central 
parts of the nervous system. This space and time arrangement of 
nerve excitations is independent of the content of what is felt, and 
only dependent upon the combination of primitive impressions. 



NERVOUS SYSTEM AND SOUL LIFE. 23 

in order to cause the various muscles to carry out the desired 
movement. For this reason the mind of the infant is unskill- 
ful in the control of the apparatus for moving its body and 
in managing it according to its concepts. The desired skill 
is acquired only after many attempts which are first unsuc- 
cessful. Here, too, the central parts of the nervous system 
assist, since the motor impulses necessary to a combined 
movement are united into a single, or total state in the respec- 
tive parts of the brain; so that only a single impulse is needed 
in order to produce the desired compound movement of the 
body, i) The coordination of movements is ascribed particu- 
larly to the cerebellum. 

In addition to the business of combining or synthesizing 
sensory and motor impulses into well-ordered totalities, or 
united groups, the brain has also the general function of 
attending and mediating the higher offices of the soul, by 
means of peculiar accompanying activities, which have thus 
far been but slightly investigated. This activity of the brain 
has been variously conceived and misinterpreted. Phrenology 
goes to the greatest lengths in this matter. It assumes that 
the various classes of soul activities may be localized in as 
many spatially divided provinces of the brain. Since these 
so-called faculties of the soul are nothing but abstractions 
without any real validity {I 6), the fundamental view of phre- 
nology must be characterized as baseless. In the life of the 
soul all factors play into one another, and all are mingled in 



1) There exists here a great difference between man and animals. 
As a rule the animal body is adjusted to a certain predetermined typ- 
ical form, calculated for a limited range of life conditions, while man's 
body is capable of adjusting itself to the most manifold conditions of 
life. So, in the brain of the animal, the necessary combinations of 
motor impulses for the execution of particular, and often very com- 
plicated and artistic movements, are so performed that the animal 
does not, like man, need to learn. The spider is from the first exceed- 
ingly skillful in spinning and running, but in nothing else. Man is, 
at first, unskillful at everything, but he may become skillful in every- 
thing by practice. With him education takes the place of instinct. 



24 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

reciprocal determination and development. The elementary- 
component parts of our consciousness, namely, sensations, 
must be distinguished from those mental products which are 
developed by training and culture. Only to the first, which 
are stored up by the memory as the original elements of soul 
activity, may be ascribed certain localization in the respec- 
tive portions of the brain. It would, however, certainly be 
unjustifiable to assume localization for derived states of the 
mind; thus, for example, to assume special " organs of the 
brain" for cunning, bloodthirstiness, talent for fine arts, etc. 
These derived mental states are the result of a synthesizing 
of many elements of soul life, which is not brought about by 
the activity of the nervous system, but which is to be regarded 
as the peculiar function of soul life. 

Even though these derived states of mind, for example, 
the phenomena of intelligence, of feeling, of will, are in no 
wise localized in particular material parts of the brain, yet 
they are significantly modified by the formal differences which 
the physiological resonance {I 7) of the nervous centers ex- 
hibit. In this way one understands how a general excitability 
of the nervous system brings with it a disposition to power- 
ful feelings and emotions, and how a cold-blooded nature would 
manifest itself in mental aspects different from those of a 
choleric nature. 

We must, accordingly, content ourselves with the gen- 
eral fact that mental states are accompanied by nervous con- 
ditions (particularly cerebral conditions) which powerfully 
affect the mental life through their formal differences, that is, 
through the energy with which they appear and through the 
rhythm of their progress and subsidence, and finally through 
the combinations of states of excitation which happen to be 
established in the nerve centers, without, however, being able, 
under normal conditions, to exert a determining influence 
upon the soul life. 



RESULTS OF INTERACTION OF BODY AND SOUL. 25 

Remark. — The question as to the seat of the soul, which has not 
seldom been propounded, has indeed a meaning; for even a simple, 
non-spatial essence allows of place determination in space; but where 
this place is, and whether it is stable or variable, are questions which 
offer almost no starting points for anatomical investigations, since the 
expected convergence of nerve fibers to a single central place in the 
brain is not warranted by anatomy, and the symmetrically divided 
pair of hemispherical formations of the brain exclude at once the 
notion of unity. Instead of the expected crossing-point of the nerve 
fibers, which, besides, could not be a mathematical point, there may 
be presupposed a nervous parenchyma as sensorium commune, in 
which the activities of the nerves, as well as the static pressure, 
extend themselves through a fluid in all directions, so that, no matter 
from which direction they come, they must meet the resident and 
sensitive soul. It is true that in the extension of this parenchyma 
the direction of the sense impulse which is transmitted to the same 
by an isolated nerve fiber is lost; but, as we shall clearly see later, 
this direction as such is never an object of sense-perception, since all 
that transmits an impression to the soul consists of its individual and 
fixed quality, which can always communicate itself to the soul through 
the sensorium commune. This sensorium would be also the place in 
which the nerve excitations, coming from various sides, would enter 
into an interaction similar to that of concepts in the soul. Though 
certain physiologists locate the seat of the soul now in the pineal 
gland, now in other places, yet these views are, of course, founded 
upon mere hypotheses. 



§ 12. RESULTS OF THE INTERACTION OF BODY AND SOUL. 

In mental activity, the psychological resonance (? 7) 
manifests itself in certain states, which are partly perma- 
nent or habitual, partly transitory, and partly periodically 
returning. 

This is especially true in those formal differences (3 11) 
of the nervous system in general and of its centers in par- 
ticular, which determine the course and departure of the 
mental states in a double direction, namely, according to the 
degree of intensity (strength, liveliness) with which the men- 



26 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

tal states appear, and according to the speed with which they 
depart. 

The permanent quality of mental conditions in respect 
to intensity and excitability — as a result of the permanent 
characteristic of the nervous system — is called Temperament. 
In so far as this degree of intensity and excitability in each 
person is a peculiar one, each has his peculiar temperament; 
thinking however of the external limits, four chief kinds 
of temperaments may be distinguished: viz. , the choleric, 
with the maximum; and the phlegmatic, with the minimum 
of intensity as well as excitability; then the sanguine, with 
much excitability and but little intensity; and the melan- 
choly, with little excitability and much intensity. The chol- 
eric temperament is as much the opposite of the phlegmatic 
as the sanguine is of the melancholy. 

Since, however, the intimate interaction of all organic 
processes of the body does not permit a separation of nerve 
life from the other organic functions, the other bodily organs 
and systems have a certain value for the soul. The perma- 
nent condition of the whole body so far as it has an influence 
upon the mind is called bodily temperament. The strong or 
weak constitution of the body, the health or sickness of its 
organs, the quality of the blood, and even the structure of 
the bones and the muscular system have their fixed value, 
not alone for the physical, but also for the spiritual life, and 
belong, therefore, to the bodily temperament. Secondarily, 
also, descent, climate, age, sex, etc., belong to the same in 
so far as they have an influence upon the physical and mental 
constitution of man. Therefore, not only individuals, but 
also families, nations, races, ages, and sexes, have their pecu- 
liar bodily temperaments. But it must not be thought that 
these influences rule, as if man were a product of his bodily 
constitution. On the contrary, with educated people, the 
superiority of the spiritual nature is shown, in that it devel- 



RESULTS OF INTERACTION OF BODY AND SOUL. 27 

ops contrary to the bodily temperament; thus, for example, 
an aged man may have the mental freshness of youth, and 
may still be cheerful even upon the sick-bed. Only the ani- 
mal is governed by its bodily temperament. (The greedy 
wolf, the timid bird, the angry lion, etc.) 

Very noticeable is the influence of the body, especially of 
the nervous system, upon the mind in the condition of sleep. 
This influence is a periodical, naturally recurring arrest of 
mental conditions and activities in consequence of the weary- 
ing of the cerebral nervous system in continuous activity of 
the sympathetic nervous system. Mental states during sleep 
are called dreams. They belong mostly to a condition of 
half-sleep. The partial restraint of the nervous system dur- 
ing sleep gives to our dreams their disconnected, peculiar, 
or absurd character, since the interaction of the concepts 
proceeds not according to logical and psychological, but 
according to physiological laws. 

Herein sleep is a type of mental diseases, in which the 
healthy life of the soul is disturbed in a lasting and abnor- 
mal manner by bodily influences. The transitory conditions 
of emotions, of swooning, of intoxication, of narcosis, of 
magnetic sleep, of clairvoyance, and of trance, are calculated 
to show us still clearer and more strikingly the intimacy of 
the interaction between body and mind. These conditions 
will be discussed further on. 

Remark. — The temperament changes with age, just as the vigor 
and excitability of the nerves change. The child, with its tender, 
sensitive bodily structure, inclines to the sanguine temperament; the 
youth, with his stronger but still sensitive nerves, is choleric; the 
man, with whom excitability has gradually subsided, becomes melan- 
choly; while the dulled senses of the old man usually cause him to 
become phlegmatic. Still, there are phlegmatic children and san- 
guine old men, and temperament is not to be confounded with quality 
of character gained by psychological culture. Thus "philosoph- 
ical phlegm" is compatible with a choleric temperament. The san- 



28 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

guine and the melancholy temperaments are called the temperaments 
of feeling, since the former is peculiar to a cheerful and the latter to 
a gloomy state of mind. On the other hand, the choleric and phleg- 
matic temperaments are called the temperaments of activity, since 
the first is united with a superfluity the other with a want of mental 
activity. The view of Hippocrates regarding the origin of tempera- 
ment through the mixing of four humors (blood, choler, phlegm, and 
melancholy), is of course antiquated. 



III. 

PSYCHOLOGY PROPER. 

3 13. THREEFOLD DIVISION OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

Although the soul is a unit, yet, according to the testi- 
mony of experience, it is capable of a great multiplicity of 
states or conditions, partly simultaneous and partly succes- 
sive, one to the other. These mental states may first be dis- 
tinguished as original and derived. Original states are such 
as can not be derived from other states or conditions of the 
soul. 

There are no inborn original states of the soul. U Only the 
capacity of the soul, under certain circumstances, to enter 
into the rich and minutely graduated process of development 
of mental life is inborn. 

The consciousness of the new-born infant is a white 
sheet, a tabula rasa, which gradually fills itself with a defi- 
nite content, in consequence of interaction with the external 
world. 

Out of this interaction proceed the original mental states. 
These are the sense-perceptions, color and sound, smell and 
taste, physical pleasure and pain. They are the building- 
stones of mental life, with which all higher structures of the 
soul are built. Sensations are in soul-life what the elements 
are in chemistry or the cells in physiology. Of sensations, 
therefore, we must first treat. 

1) John Locke was the first who denied the doctrine of Inborn 
Ideas. In this regard he gave direction to modern psychology. 



30 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

Sensations are sense-concepts, by means of which we 
grasp the external world. They endure in the soul, even 
though the external excitations which produced them cease to 
act. They are still called concepts in the more restricted sense, 
for example, the concept of my absent friend, the concept in 
midwinter of the splendor of spring. Through the interac- 
tion of such concepts higher concept-structures are formed, 
in which the original are no longer to be recognized; as, for 
example, the concept of God, of virtue, of power, of number. 
This kind of concepts, which are also called general notions, 
ideas, thoughts, belong to mediated, or derived mental states. 

Other derived states arise through the meeting of con- 
cepts in our consciousness, which no longer bear the charac- 
teristics of concepts, since with them it is no longer a ques- 
tion of what is represented, but of how the mental activity 
proceeds. The mental states which are determined, not by 
the objective content of what is conceived, but by the sub- 
jective condition of the conceiver, are the various conditions 
of our feeling and will. They come to the concept as a new 
element, like the exponent of a relation to the members of the 
relation, and always presuppose not only the juxtaposition, 
but also the interaction of several concepts. For instance, to 
the concept of a picture, there is united, as a subjective ad- 
junct, a feeling of pleasure, or even the desire to possess it; 
so, at the sight of misery, we have the feeling of pity and the 
impulse to help. 

These derived states of mind are in general distinguished 
as feelings and strivings, according as the passive or the 
active character predominates. From this arises the three- 
fold division of psychology, into the doctrine of concepts, the 
doctrine of feelings, and the doctrine of volitions. (Know- 
ing, feeling, willing.) 

Remark. — The old psychology hypostasized the three chief notions 
of classification, Knowing, Feeling, and Willing, thus making them 



THREEFOLD DIVISION OF PSYCHOLOGY. 31 

real faculties of the soul. Aristotle is the father of the theory of 
soul faculties. His faculties are directly called the parts of the 
soul, but are related to mental activity as possibility to reality. Of 
faculties there are five: that of nourishment, of sensation, of desire, 
of locomotion, and of thought. We find the greatest extension of this 
doctrine in the modern philosophy of Wolff, and even with Kant the 
main features of this system are retained. The latter distinguished 
more sharply between feelings and strivings, and thereby laid the basis 
for the present customary threefold division of psychology. To the 
modern explanatory philosophy, w T hich employs the genetic method (g 6) 
especially, the faculties are only general class notions, used for guid- 
ance within the manifoldness of mental phenomena, but in no sense 
are they principles of knowledge for the explanation of these phe- 
nomena. Just as in physics, the specific powers of nature disappear, 
and natural laws gain ground, the further an explanatory knowledge 
of nature progresses, so in psychology do the manifold soul powers 
vanish, or maintain their places only as terminological names. Here, 
as there, true scientific progress consists in transition from explana- 
tions in name to explanations in fact. 



PART I. 
KNOWLEDGE. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE PRODUCTION OF SENSE-CONCEPTS. 

I 14. SENSATION. 

A sensation is a concept, 1 ) or perception of the soul, which 
arises from the transmission of an externally stimulated ntrve 
excitation to the nerve centers, and, through their agency, to the 
soid itself A sensation is therefore in the mind, even though 
its effecting causes lie partly in the body, and partly in the 
external world. 

We may distinguish the following stages in the prod ac- 
tion of sensations: 

1. The exciting cause. This is a condition of physical 
motion, either of a ponderable material, as, for example, pres- 
sure, sound, molecular action; or of an imponderable medium, 
as with light. Sensations whose content is clear and distinct 
depend upon periodical, or oscillatory, movements. 

2. The attack of this p>hysical condition of movement 
upon a sensitive part of the body, either in unchanged form, 
as is the case with sound and light, where the oscillatory 
movement as such makes its attack upon the nerves; or in an 
altered form, when the peripheral ends of the nerves are 

1) In this book Concept is a general term for any mental product. 
When used in a special sense, it is properly restricted. — Transkiiur. 



SENSATION, 33 

affected by the movement, not directly, but through a change 
in the bodily masses which are directly touched, as, for ex- 
ample, in the case of impressions from heat. 

3. The condition of excitation in the sensory nerve fibers, 
which was awakened by the external exciting cause, and 
which we have characterized as a negative vibration of the 
nerve current (§ 8). This condition of excitation is a purely 
physical inner nerve process, which has no kind of similar- 
ity to its external producing cause, nor to the sensation to 
which it leads. It would seem, rather, that these conditions 
of excitation in different nerve fibers, as modifications of a 
common principle, namely, of their electrical aspect, are more 
related to one another than to their external exciting causes, 
which differ considerably in kind. 

4. The transmission of this condition of excitation of the 
nerve fibers to the nerve centers and finally to the brain as a 
center of the highest order, in particular to those parts of the 
brain which men are inclined to regard as the seat of the 
soul (sensorium commune). In this process the condition of 
excitation in the nerve fiber experiences another and final 
transformation, because it here meets with numberless other 
conditions of excitation which have been conducted by separate 
nerves, and which modify one another according to the meas- 
ure of their strength and opposition. Only in this changed 
state does the excitation succeed in affecting the soul. In 
this total impression it may happen that individual excita- 
tions are completely lost, and fail to reach the soul. Thus 
is explained the fact that at times we do not see or hear, 
though light and sound waves are exciting our nerves of sen- 
sation. (Sleep, swoon, unrecognized sensation.) 

5. The last stage of this process is the sensation itself 
which the soul creates in consequence of the antecedent 
occurrences. It is not a copy or image of the external thing, 
but an answer to the excitation which proceeded from it; an 



31 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

answer, indeed, in the < 'concept," the language peculiar to 
the soul. Only from the fact that the same external things 
bring about the same sensations in the soul, do concepts 
become transformed into "signs," from which we may con- 
clude as to the presence and relations of the external world. 

Remark 1. — The sensation as inner state of the simple soul essence 
is a witness to the spontaneity of the soul, which has been awakened 
by the preliminary processes; the sensation is by no means carried 
into the soul from without, but is created from within, and it is in no 
wise comparable with the physical exciting cause. The application 
of sensations to the intelligent apprehension of the external world does 
not mean, therefore, that the sensations represent or image the quali- 
ties, but rather the relations of qualities or of external events, for the 
relations which are established among the sensations are analogous to 
those which exist among the external events which gave rise to them. 
This occurs when we perceive the manifold, the single; the near, the 
remote; the large, the small; the strong, the weak; the slow, the fast, 
etc., as they are in reality. 

Remark 2. — The superficial conception of our cognition inclines 
to the assumption, that by means of sensations we directly grasp the 
qualities of things in the outer world. This is not the case. Between 
the rate of vibrations producing a tone and the content of the tone- 
sensation, there is no connection; and a careful analysis of color 
reveals no relation between the color on the one hand, and the length 
of wave and the rate of vibration in an elastic and imponderable me- 
dium on the other. Only science succeeds, by indirect means, in estab- 
lishing these relations, of which the ordinary mind has no conception. 



i 15. CONTENT, STRENGTH, AND TONE OF SENSATION. 

There are three things to be distinguished in a sensation ; 
viz. , content, strength, and tone. 

By content is meant the qualitative determination of the 
sensation in regard to the nature of the exciting cause. Dif- 
ference in the content of sensation corresponds to the ; ' spe- 
cific energies" (2 19) with which different sensory nerves 



CONTENT, STRENGTH, AND TONE. 35 

respond to outer excitation; whereas, different excitations 
within the same department of sense correspond to mere con- 
trast in the content of sensation. Hardness and taste, sound 
and color give different sensations — individual tones and indi- 
vidual colors produce among themselves contrasted sensations. 

By strength is meant the quantitative determination of 
the sensation in regard to the magnitude of the exciting cause. 
Greater excitants produce stronger sensations (2 16). With- 
out experiencing any change in its quality, the sensation passes 
through a whole scale of quantitative changes, which corre- 
spond to the increase in the intensity of the excitant, its nature 
remaining unchanged. According to the measure of this 
increase, the sensations from one and the same class of excit- 
ants fall into a series of continually increasing intensity, as in 
weight, temperature, strength of tone, and degree of light. 

Content and strength are only different sides of one and 
the same indivisible sensation, having their source in the 
conditions of the external stimulus (rate and length of vibra- 
tion in sound). To these there is added, in many classes of 
sensations, still a third — the tone. By the tone of a sensation 
we understand the agreeableness or disagreeableness of the 
same, through which it announces to our consciousness ' 'the 
measure of agreement or of conflict between the excitant of 
the sensation and the conditions of life," that is, its disturb- 
ing value for the totality of the life process. The sensation 
is pleasurable or painful according to the functional disturb- 
ance which its exciting cause calls forth; i. e., according as 
it furthers or retards the bodily welfare. When the lungs 
are highly heated, a cooling drink is pleasant, since it brings 
a momentary benefit by removing the excessive dryness, even 
though it should prove injurious in the end. 

The strength or intensity of a sensation, or of a concept 
in general, is figuratively represented by its elevation above 
an ideal surface called the threshold of consciousness. 



36 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

Remark 1. — The contrast which arises in the content of sensa- 
tions makes it possible to distinguish them easily, producing clear- 
ness in the single sensation and distinctness in groups of sensations, 
since we are able to distinguish the elements of the group from one 
another. The distinctness of simultaneous sensations is favored by 
the insulated course of the primitive nerve fibers; that of successive 
sensations by the capacity of nerve fibers to distinguish successive 
impulses. The running together of the nerve fibers is the cause of 
the obscurity of groups of sensations. This obscurity is greatest in 
the sphere of bodily sensations, which extends over the whole sur- 
face of the body. 

Remark 2. — In order to explain the tone of a sensation, one must 
regard the nerve process called forth by an outer excitant, not as iso- 
lated, but as in interaction with the other nerve excitations, whether 
occurring in a nerve center or in the general "sensorium." The single 
nerve irritant finds the nerve fibers and centers in a certain tension, 
resulting from a plurality of excitations which flow together there. 
This tension suffers a certain change on account of the new stimulus. 
According as the present degree of tension is elevated or depressed 
by the new excitant, the sensation appears to consciousness as pleas- 
ant or painful. 



I 16. THE RELATION BETWEEN STIMULUS AND SENSA- 
TION. THE PSYCHOLOGICAL LAW. 

When magnitudes are compared, three things must be 
distinguished in the process of producing sensations: (a) the 
external stimulus; (b) the degree of nervous excitation; and 
(c) the sensation itself. 

Of these three magnitudes, only the first is accessible 
to exact measurement; light-stimuli, tones, weights, temper- 
atures, solutions of things which may be tasted, can be object- 
ively measured. With regard to the sensation itself, the 
single degrees can not be exactly distinguished, though at 
least two states of the same may be; viz., the condition in 
which the sensation is just noticeable, i. e., the zero point or 
threshold value of the sensation; and the second, that in 



THE PSYCHOLOGICAL LAW. 37 

which it experiences a noticeable increase of strength, or 
intensity, i. e., its value in marking difference. The com- 
parison between stimulus and sensation must proceed from 
these two states, which may be subjectively fixed. 

That as a rule the intensity of the sensation increases 
and diminishes with that of the stimulus is a principle well 
established by experience. When a sound or a light-stimu- 
lus or a weight pressing on the hand increases, we perceive 
that our sensation also increases. It has been hastily con- 
cluded, therefore, that the intensity of the sensation is pro- 
portional to the intensity of the stimulus. 

This is, however, not the case. For example^g^ a cer- 
tain sound continually increase in strength from Wro; we 
notice that the stimulus is present with a certain degree of 
strength without there being subjectively any sensation pres- 
ent. We do not hear the ringing of a far-distant bell, because 
the vibrations of the air (sound stimuli) become too greatly 
weakened in passing over the long distance to our ear. Only 
when the stimulus has reached a certain degree does a sen- 
sation appear. 

This degree of the stimulus at which its noticeability 
just begins, that value of the same which corresponds to the 
zero point of the sensation, we may, with Fechner, name the 
threshold of stimulus. It is the lower border of stimulus, 
below which there would be no sensation. On the other hand 
there is also an upper boundary of stimulus, beyond which 
an increase of sensation would be impossible; this may be 
called the summit of stimulus. 

The sensation begins then, not with the infinitely small, 
but with the threshold value of the stimulus, and its growth 
ceases entirely at the summit of the stimulus. (See Fig. 1, 
on next page.) 



53 



EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 
(Fig. 1.) 















1> 




-~~' — tL 


^■^C^ 








^ *'-'' 
,.''' 


















~lr' 


j?. 


3 


Q. 


s 


/ a, 






772- 



X 



THE PSYCHO-PHYSIC CURVE. 



o x, Axis of abscissas of the stimulus. 

y y, Axis of ordinates of the intensity of the sensation. 

a, Zero point of the sensation, corresponding to the stimulus 
equaling o a. 

o m, Summit of stimulus. 

Near a, the sensation increases rapidly with the stimulus; near 
m, slowly. 

The negative ordinates to the abscissas from o to 1, signify stim- 
uli of which we are not conscious. 

a b, Line of proportional growth, in order to show the deviation. 

o a, Measure of sensitiveness to stimuli. 

If now within the compass between the threshold and 
the summit of stimulus, we gradually increase the stimulus, 
we notice that not every increase effects an increase of sen- 
sation; the increase of stimulus must reach a certain degree, 
the threshold of distinction, in order to be noticeable. 

This last is, however, not a constant magnitude, but is 
dependent upon the degree of stimulus, and relativity of 
sensation already reached. The higher this degree already 
is, the larger must be the addition to the stimulus, in order, 
noticeably, to increase the sensation; i. e., the more removed 



THE PSYCHOLOGICAL LAW. 39 

is the threshold of distinction. In short, one may say, The 
threshold of distinction of a stimulus is proportional to the 
strength of the stimulus. 

This principle, originally empirically proved by Weber, 
and later confirmed and more exactly construed by Fechner, 
is called The Psycho-Physic Law. 

This law has, within certain limits, been verified in the 
various departments of sense, as well for intensive stimuli, 
such as oppression, weights, temperatures, height of tone, 
strength of light, as for extensive magnitude of stimuli. For 
instance, the heavier a weight held in the hand is, the more 

1 must increase it, in order to have a noticeable increase of 
the sensation. 

From the foregoing the following principles may be 
deduced: 

1. The threshold value of the sensation is a constant 
magnitude; viz., zero; it is the zero point upon the scale of 
sensation. 

2. The threshold value of the stimulus, or point of per- 
ception is with the same individual under the same circum- 
stances a constant magnitude, yet one differing from zero. 
(Oain Fig. 1.) 

3. With different individuals and under altered circum- 
stances, however, the point of perception of the stimulus 
varies. The sooner it is reached, i. e. , the more the threshold 
of stimulus (o) approaches that of sensation (a), the greater 
is the man's sensitiveness to stimuli. If, for example, the 
threshold of sensation lies at stimulus 1 in one person and at 

2 in another, the sensitiveness in the first case is double that 
in the second; i. e. , the sensitiveness to stimulus is propor- 
tional to the reciprocal of the value of the stimulus. 

4. The distance between points of discrimination in a 
sensation is constant, because infinitely small; the distance 
between points of perception in the stimulus is changeable; 



40 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

that is, in the terms of the psycho-physic law, is proportional 
to the strength of the stimulus itself; in other words, the 
greater the stimulus already is, the more it must grow in 
order that difference in sensation may be perceived. 

5. The increase in the sensation is slower than the in- 
crease in the stimulus. More exactly, while the strength of 
the sensation increases only in an arithmetical ratio (as, 1, 2, 

3, 4 ), that of the stimulus grows in a geometrical 

ratio (as, 1, 2, 4, 8, 16 ). This is most clearly perceived 

in tones, where the second octave above the key-note corre- 
sponds to the tone value 4, whereas upon the musical scale of 
our sensations and upon the piano, which is correspondingly 
arranged, this tone appears to be threefold the key-note. 

Remark 1. — The increase of sensations stands to that of stimuli 
as logarithms to numbers. While logarithms increase arithmetically: 

1, 2, 3 , the corresponding numbers increase geometrically; viz., 

10, 100, 1000 In the first, the constant difference is 1; in the 

second, the constant quotient is 10. Nevertheless, one may, within 
narrow limits, posit the increase of the logarithms as proportional 
to that of the numbers, as actually happens in the process of inter- 
polation. Just as for each sensation there is a threshold value of 
stimulus (o a, Fig. 1) which coincides with the zero point of sensa- 
tion (a, Fig. 1), so in the number series (1, 2, -3, 4, ) there is a 

point lying above zero which corresponds to the zero point of the 
logarithm. This number value is unity, for log 1 = 0. Since, there- 
fore, logarithms and numbers show relations analogous to those of 
sensations and stimuli, Fechner proposed for the relation between 
sensation and stimulus the following formula: 

y = k log ft 

i. e., the sensation (y) is not absolutely proportional to the magnitude 
of the stimulus (/?), but to the logarithm of the same. From the 
foregoing formula follows through differentiation, 

d/3 

dy =k 

P 

which is the mathematical expression for Weber's law. 



TWO CHIEF CLASSES OF SENSATIONS. 41 

Remark 2. — The fact of the threshold of sensation secures to us a 
certain physical insensibility, and consequently a certain independ- 
ence of the numberless minute stimuli which constantly buzz about 
us, and which, without this fact, would be a source of constant dis- 
comfort. The distance between points of discrimination, on the other 
hand, secures to the sensations which appear in consciousness a cer- 
tain constancy, since it frees them from the oscillations of the stimuli. 
The pleasing impression of a harmonious piece of music essentially 
depends upon the fact that we do not hear the minor deviations of the 
tones from tune and score, because they fall between the points of 
discrimination. " Threshold value," and "points of perception and 
discrimination" are expressions for sensibility to stimuli and their 
differences, and as such are very different, not only with different 
persons, but also from time to time, according to the measure of habit, 
weariness, practice, agitation, depression, etc. 

Remark 3. — The law of Bernoull, which is more than one hundred 
years old, forms an interesting side-piece to the psycho-physic law. 
It expresses the relation between the objective worth (price) and the 
subjective valuation of a piece of economic property as follows: The 
subjective satisfying value of an objective quantity of property is 
inversely proportional to the amount of the same goods which is 
already possessed. The effect of a dollar to a man is smaller in pro- 
portion to the number of dollars he already possesses. 



I 17. THE TWO CHIEF CLASSES OF SENSATION. 

Sensations are divided into two main classes according 
to the nature of the nerve fibers, particularly according to 
the manner of their course and peripheral ending, and fur- 
ther according to the peculiarity of the object to which the 
content of the sensation relates. They are the inner sen- 
sations, or those arising from the body; and the outer sensa- 
tions, or those arising through the senses. 

There are sensory nerves, which, without ending at the 
periphery of the body with special apparatus for the percep- 
tion of the stimuli of sensation, spread themselves all over 
the surface of the body and its inner cavities in ever finer 



42 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

ramifications, and almost exclusively terminate in the spinal 
cord; there are also sensory nerves whose peripheral ends 
terminate with peculiar organs, intended for the favoring of 
a specific class of stimuli, and which mostly, after a short 
course, terminate directly in the brain. 

But the object also to which the sensation relates is dif- 
ferent with the two classes of nerves. The nerves which 
bring about the general sensibility of our body, and enable 
us to distinguish it from other objects, bring to consciousness 
only our own bodily condition, even though the sensation be 
caused by external things; as, wounds, and climatic or atmos- 
pheric effects; the sense nerves, on the other hand, which 
are designed to bring about our knowledge of the outer world, 
bring to consciousness external phenomena, even though 
these nerves are stimulated to their function by the action 
of those phenomena upon sensitive places upon the body. 

These two classes of sensation are also distinguished in 
content and tone. 

The content of sense-perception or sensation, is char- 
acterized by greater clearness; the muscular sensation by 
greater obscurity. 

Sensations arising from the senses group themselves into 
series according to the measure of their similarity and their 
difference, whose members, especially with the higher senses, 
form a well ordered scale. The insulated course of the nerve 
fibers, as well as the independence which one excitation has 
of another, favored by the structure of the organs of sense, 
make the distinction possible. These organic arrangements 
are lacking for the muscular sensations. With them many 
simultaneous sensations become united into a more or less 
obscure general impression, on account of the even distribu- 
tion of stimuli of sensation over whole regions of sensitive 
body surface, as well as on account of the intimate reciproc- 
ity between the parts of the organism. 



SENSATIONS OF THE BODY. 43 

The two chief classes of sensations are distinguished in 
tone in the fact that muscular or bodily sensations mostly 
have tone, whereas the sensations arising from the senses are 
mostly without tone, or but slightly affected by it. 

Sensations from the higher senses particularly are, for 
the middle degrees of strength, almost entirely without 
tone. In the chemical senses of smell and taste there is, 
indeed, a distinct marking of tone, wherein these perceptions 
approach the muscular sensations. 

Remark. — If we conceive the tone of a sensation as an expression 
for its disturbing value in reference to the totality of the organic life, 
it appears comprehensible that the perceptions of sense are almost 
without tone, for with them the disturbance of the organic life 
effected by the nerve stimulus, is reduced to a minimum on account 
of the greatest possible isolation of the nerve excitation; whereas a 
greater or less disturbance of the organic life lies at the basis of the 
muscular or bodily sensations, which are directly produced by organic 
changes of the body. The sensations freest from tone are those of 
the eye; the eye is, however, an organ which has the greatest relative 
independence. 



I 18. SENSATIONS OF THE BODY. 

Body-sensations arise when the organic changes of the 
body which accompany the life process or which are excited 
in the body by external causes, are conveyed to the brain 
and thereby brought to consciousness. They are especially 
marked by tone, — agreeable in the case of full bodily health, 
painful where there are physiological disturbances. (? 15.) 

The life process is an unbroken series of changes within 
our body. Circulation of the blood, respiration, digestion, 
and excretion bring about a perpetual change of matter 
within our bodies. The mind is made aware of this process 
by the general body-sensation of animal heat, of hunger or 



44 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

satiety, of moisture or dryness (thirst as dryness of the pal- 
ate), of muscular tension or weariness, of free or labored 
breathing, etc. 

The wealth of sensations arising from the body is 
extraordinarily great. It is commensurate with the broad 
surface expansion of the sensitive nerve tissue, and its con- 
stant excitation by the never wholly pausing life process. It 
is not conceivable that, with the immense peripheral develop- 
ment of the nerves of the skin, every single impression should 
be conveyed along an insulated track to the brain and to the 
mind; but there must rather be a uniting of the single exci- 
tations in the larger nerves and in the nerve centers, where 
the many inflowing nervous impulses unite into one great 
stream. The momentary average of this stream exhibits the 
general or vital sensation. The faculty of perceiving body- 
sensations may be called the vital sense. 

In vital sensation, the largely contradictory content of 
the uniting sensations is more or less canceled by their syn- 
thesis, hence their characteristic obscurity. On the other 
hand, the predominating individual tones of the elementary 
sensations unite into a strengthened totality of tone, which 
we perceive either as physical enjoyment of life or as phys- 
ical discomfort. 

By means of this life-sensation, we have in every 
instant of our existence, not only the consciousness that we 
live, but also how we (physically) live, so that this sensation 
has not unfitly been called Ci t7ie barometer of our life process " 
or "the vital conscience." We have in particular the sensa- 
tion that we maintain the equilibrium of our body, that we 
digest and respire, that we contract or relax the muscles, 
that the blood circulates in us, etc. 

Vital sensation forms the obscure background upon which 
single local sensations are distinguished in strength and tone, 
yet they can be but imperfectly distinguished; it is not easy 



SENSATIONS OF THE BODY. 45 

for us to compare muscular sensations after the manner of 
sensations arising through the senses, to arrange them in 
series according to graduated contrasts, and to characterize 
them by names of exact significance. The metaphorical 
terms, oppression, stinging, burning r , pricking ', etc., by which 
we seek to characterize our muscular sensations, are of course 
indefinite. 

Muscular sensations proper form a specific class of body 
or organic sensations. These arise from muscular activity 
at the peripheral ends of a sensory nerve, by which the 
mind is made conscious not only of the presence of movement, 
but also of its kind and degree, so that in these sensations 
we possess a sort of muscle and force sense. (Comp. § 35.) 

Sensations arising from the body have this peculiarity, 
that we can not rid ourselves of them through the removal of 
their exciting cause, for this cause is our own body. *) They 
are constantly above the threshold of consciousness and fuse 
with all other mental states. Herein is seen their importance 
in the process of mental life, and also the necessity of mak- 
ing ourselves independent of them by becoming physically 
hardened. 

Remark 1. — Even the changes of those organs and systems which 
control the sympathetic nerves, and which consequently are not im- 
mediately accessible to our consciousness, make themselves indirectly 
perceptible, since the excitations of the sympathetic nerves are trans- 
ferred to the neighboring off-shoots of the cerebral nerves. Thus the 
excretory and digestive processes are at least indirectly placed under 
the control of consciousness. 

Remark 2. — Muscular sensation as reflex is the opposite of reflex 
action. By the latter, sensation is converted into motion; by the 
former, however, motion is transferred into sensation. The first pro- 
cess takes place in a center, the second at the periphery. Muscular 



1) The anaesthetic or sensationless state occurs temporarily in 
deep sleep; it can, though incompletely, be produced by narcotic 
means, but never without serious danger. 



46 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

sensations are of the greatest importance, because they adapt move- 
ments more and more exactly to the ends designed, and subordinate 
the motive apparatus of our body completely to the rule of the Will. 
They reinforce the effectiveness of the senses, for they mediate the 
finest adjustments of the organ of sense used in seeing, especially of 
the eye-ball. 



I 19. SENSATION AEISING FEOM THE SENSES. 

The peripheral ends of the sensory nerves stand in 
connection with peculiar and wonderfully constructed con- 
trivances, whose function it is to allow a particular class of 
stimuli adequately to affect the sensitive nerve ends to the 
greatest possible exclusion of all other stimuli. These con- 
trivances, which at the same time form the out-works of the 
soul, are called the organs of sense. The papillae of the 
sense of touch, the organs of tasting and smelling, the ear and 
the eye belong here. The sensations arising from one sense 
are unlike those of every other sense in kind, and are wholly 
incomparable with them; as, sound and light, temperature 
and smell. Each sense has its own peculiar speech in which 
it answers to all external stimuli, even to those which are 
inappropriate to it, and not adapted to the structure of its 
organ. A blow upon the skin causes pain; upon the eye, 
light; upon the ear, sound. The electric stream arouses the 
tongue to a sensation of taste, the eye to one of light, the 
ear to one of sound. The same sunbeam which produces 
light in the eye, brings to the skin a feeling of warmth. 

This peculiarity of the nerves of sense according to 
which they always respond in the same way to all stimuli 
which affect them, has been called the sjiecijic energy of the 
senses. The ground of explanation for this can evidently 
lie either in the condition of excitation in the sensory nerve 
fibers, or in the manner of their peripheral and central ter- 



SENSATION ARISING FROM THE SENSES. 47 

minations. Since the state of excitation of a nerve fiber in 
all kinds of nerves rests upon the same principle, namely, 
upon a negative vibration of the stream of nervous fo^ce 
(§ 8), the specific peculiarity of a sensation can in no wise 
lie in the nerve fiber itself. D It is imparted to sense impres- 
sions, partly by means of the peculiar terminal structures in 
whicjh. the sensory nerve branches out, partly by means of 
the conducting nerves, which must lead to the nerve centers 
before consciousness can be reached. 

Under the microscope, these terminal structures of the 
sensory nerves exhibit a most admirable mechanism, whose 
purpose is to fit these organs to the peculiar form of stimu- 
lus for which they are adapted. This adaptation is effected 
by the entrance of the terminal nerve fibers into cells, whose 
forms assume a various character according to the character 
of the external stimulus. The cortical organ of the ear, 
and the retina of the eye are examples of the terminal struc- 
tures of the sensory nerves. 

Remark 1. — The sensory nerves, also, in this respect appear sim- 
ilar to telegraph wires, with which they have so often been compared, 
in so far as it is the same stronger or weaker electrical stream which 
moves over the wire, and which, according as it is placed in connec- 
tion with this or that terminal apparatus, brings telegrams, decom- 
poses water, explodes mines, etc. In the same way, the state of ex- 
citation of a nerve fiber may, according to the different kinds of 
apparatus between which the nerve extends, produce sensations of 
light or heat, movements or gland discharges. 

Remark 2. — Where the external stimulus touches, not the sense 
organ but the sense nerve, the specific sensation of this sense is not 
aroused in the mind. The same degree of temperature which, affect- 
ing a nerve through the skin, would produce the sensation of cold, 
does not produce this sensation, but that of pain when it affects the 



1) In recent nerve physiology, this fact is called the functional 
indifference of the nerves. It has essentially modified the original 
theory of ''specific energy" proposed by Johannes Muller. 



48 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

nerve direct. The ray of light which, falling upon the optical appa- 
ratus, produces sight, does not produce sight when it comes in direct 
contact with the optic nerve. The optic nerve is blind at its point of 
entrance into the eye. This fact confirms the foregoing explanation 
of the "specific energy" of the several sensory nerves, for the "spe- 
cific energy" is explained as dependent upon the nature of the organ 
of sense. With the absence of a specially constructed organ of sense 
in the skin, there is also lacking this "specific energy," for these 
nerves react variously according to the various classes of stimuli 
(burning, tickling, pressing, pricking, etc.). 

Remark 3. — The notion of sense and the fivefold division of the 
same is by no means so final as we are perhaps inclined to assume. 
If to a given sense a special organ belongs, the sense of touch is 
already placed in question, unless we regard the papillae as such an 
organ. On the other hand, one might feel bound to assume a series 
of other senses coordinated to the sense of touch; as, for example, a 
muscular sense, a respiratory sense, a digestive sense, etc. These 
groups of sensations have been classed with those arising from the 
body, without having been accorded the dignity of independent senses. 
It is essential, further, that the apparatus of sensation have a specific 
energy and that there be a certain isolation of the stimuli, in order 
that the sensation be distinguished from the broad stream of general 
but obscure vital sensations, which is not always the case with mus- 
cular sensations, and those of respiration and digestion. (Dutten- 
hofer: "The eight senses of man," four of which are ascribed to the 
head, and four to the body, the latter being sense of the skin, sense of 
touch, sympathetic sense, and genital sense.) We speak finally of a 
sense of time, of space, of form, of number; but this is only in a 
secondary, or derived significance; for the conceptions of time, space, 
etc., belong, not to original but to derived mental states. 



I 20. SENSE OF TOUCH. 

We ascribe to the sense of touch those sensations which 
arise from the contact of the skin with foreign bodies, pro- 
vided the sensation does not rise to pain through excess of 
stimulation. A foreign body produces its effect through 
pressure, which brings about a molecular change in the skin 
covering, or the organ of touch. Change of temperature oper- 



SENSE OF TOUCH. 49 

ates in a manner similar to external pressure; for the increase 
or decrease of warmth which penetrates the skin causes 
extensions and contractions of the skin, which are not unlike 
the results of mechanical pressure. The specific energy of 
touch, by which it is distinguished from sensations originat- 
ing in the body, consists in reaction against the molecular 
changes of the minutest parts of the skin, produced by pres- 
sure and temperature, thereby bringing to consciousness the 
differences between hard and soft, fluid and solid, smooth 
and rough, dry and moist, heavy and light, cold and warm, 
and all their manifold degrees. 

The passive state of being touched must be distinguished 
from active touching, in which the muscular sensation assists 
(§ 18), since we exercise a certain resistance to the external 
pressure. 1 ) This is increased when the organs of touch (in 
most cases the tips of the fingers) move along over the sur- 
face of the object to be touched. 

The content of the sensation of touch is not alone con- 
ditioned by the touching object, but also by the place of 
contact upon the skin. The same contact produces a differ- 
ent sensation according, e. g. , as exerted upon the right or 
the left arm. A needle prick on the toe is, even with closed 
eyes, distinguished from one on the back. This distinction 
would be impossible, were the sensations identical as regards 
their content. 

In the content of the sensation of touch, therefore, there 
lies not only an indication of the object of contact, but also 
of the place of contact. The latter indication, which puts 



1) How greatly sensitiveness of touch is increased by active 
touching has been numerically established by Weber in his interest- 
ing experiments with the smallest weights which we can distinguish 
by means of the hand. In the case of passive touch, where weights 
press upon the hand when resting upon the table, the increase of 
weight must be nearly half that already resting upon the hand in 
order to be perceived; in active touch where the weight is held freely 
in the hand, an increase of one-seventh was noted. 



50 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

us in condition to refer every impression of touch to a par- 
ticular location on the skin, we call the local sign of the sen- 
sation. Since the whole sensitive surface on account of con- 
stant contact with clothing, air, temperature, is constantly 
in a certain state of excitation, and since each excitation 
brings its local sign with it, we obtain through the sense of 
touch a cognition of the geometrical boundary of our body, 
whereby the sense of touch becomes a sense of location. 

The delicacy of the sense of touch is manifested in the 
ability to distinguish places on the skin lying in close juxta- 
position by means of the local signs of their sensations of 
touch, and to hold them in consciousness as sundered. This 
delicacy varies greatly with the different regions of the body 
surface. For every portion there is a smallest distance 
within which two neighboring impressions of touch can no 
longer be distinguished, but fuse into a single sensation. 
This smallest distance is measured by the distance between 
the two blunted points of a compass placed upon the skin, 
and is in inverse proportion to the delicacy of the sense of 
localization. According to "Weber's exact measurements, it 
amounts to one millimeter for the most sensitive parts of the 
skin; namely, upon the tip of the tongue and the tips of the 
fingers, while for the middle of the back it amounts to sixty- 
eight millimeters, so that this part of the body is only one 
sixty-eighth as sensitive as the tip of the tongue. He explains 
this phenomenon by saying that all places upon the skin 
within whose compass the two points give but a single sen- 
sation, are subordinated to one and the same primitive nerve 
fiber. 

Remark 1. The local sign for touch seems to lie in the accompany- 
ing sensations, which appear to have their ground in the extension of 
the stimulus beyond the point of immediate contact, that is, in an 
irradiation of the physical excitation. The character of this accom- 
panying sensation varies in the different parts of the body according 



THE CHEMICAL SENSES. 51 

to the structure supporting the skin, and according to the surround- 
ing wealth of nerves. The difference in the structure of the organs 
of touch becomes of essential importance to delicacy of touch, since 
by change in structure, in support, etc., they favor the manifoldness 
of accompanying sensations. (Significance of the nails as backing, 
or support, for the finger tips, as well as their irregular arching, for 
delicacy of touch.) 

Remark 2. — The hand, many membered, highly movable, and fur- 
nished with the most delicate sensory nerves, may be regarded as the 
real organ of touch. The finger tips are the eyes of touch, which 
with the blind actually take the place of the real eye. The sensi- 
tiveness of touch is transferred from the hand to the instrument with 
which we touch external objects. Think in this connection of the 
staff of the blind man. The use of knife and fork, of knitting and 
darning needles, of the probe in surgery, the guiding of the pen in 
writing, the pencil in painting, etc., rest essentially upon the resist- 
ance which these tools experience at their outer ends from the exter- 
nal things, and which is communicated to the hand through the elas- 
ticity of the instrument. When we walk, the soles of our feet touch 
even through the shoes, 



I 21. THE CHEMICAL SENSES. 

The specific energy of taste and smell comprises that 
department of chemical reaction in which these senses are 
divided in accordance with the subdivisions, liquid and gas. 

The chemical senses are distinguished from touch, which 
is in the main a mechanical sense, in that the general cover- 
ing of the body passes over into the organs of these senses, 
that is, into a mucous membrane in the cavities of mouth and 
nose. The mucous membrane of the mouth, favored by the 
discharge of the salivary glands, dissolves substances which 
may be tasted, and thus makes their chemical action upon 
the ends of the nerves possible. 

Both taste and smell operate as practical senses, since 
taste stands in immediate relation to eating, and smell, to 



52 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

breathing. Both are accompanied by muscular and touch 
sensations, and, like these, are characterized by indistinctness 
of content, and by lack of vigor in tone. 

The part that these two senses contribute to our theo- 
retical knowledge is so small, that our perception of the 
world would lose little in distinctness or coloring should the 
impressions given by taste and smell be dropped out of it. 
Since, then ? these senses serve the economy of animal life 
more than they do a knowledge of the external world, we 
need not be surprised to find them in part more keenly, if 
less symmetrically, developed in the animal world than in 
man. For this reason they are called the lower senses. 

The sensations arising from these senses manifest a vari- 
ety of qualitative differences, to which, however, something 
individual and subjective always clings, so that we are not able 
to arrange them in a graduated scale. There can be no dis- 
pute about taste, and smells are characterized by their man- 
ifold peculiarities. To seek to construct a prismatic color- 
spectrum from sweet, sour, bitter, salt — or a musical scale 
from smells, must always remain a vain attempt. And for 
a conception of the outer world as regards space and time, 
these senses assist but little; for, on account of the exten- 
sion of the outer stimulus over a great number of nerve 
fibers, the sensation, though having a certain breadth of im- 
pression analogous to temperature, by no means furnishes a 
separation of the manifold according to space and time. 

Remark 1. The sensations of taste are capable of great cultiva- 
tion (gormandizing); and those of smell, of great strength or acute- 
ness. Both depend upon the divisibility of matter. The appearance 
of an effect at a distance arises, in the case of smell, from the fact 
that the volatile elements of odorous matter spread out through the 
atmosphere. That which supplies these senses has something really 
material about it, for a consumption of the object takes place in each 
case, though only in homeopathic amounts in that of smell. Taste 
is in this respect much more effective than smell. Both senses are 



HEARING. 53 

mediators of the agreeable and the disagreeable, but by no means 
interpreters of the beautiful or the ugly. The grosser sensuality of 
man prefers, therefore, to act upon these senses, and men seek to 
heighten the effect by eating and drinking, smoking and taking snuff. 
The cooking art studies the sense of taste, but purely in an empirical 
way; there is not a single universally accepted principle in this depart- 
ment, and the art is compelled to make the greatest concessions to 
subjective preference and traditional custom. There is no aesthetics 
of the art of cooking. Just as the sensory nerves of taste and smell 
are not easy to separate from nerves of touch, and the physiologists 
contend as to whether there are any specific nerves of taste, so the 
sensations from these senses are so modified by those of touch, of 
temperature, and of the body, that it is difficult to determine their pure 
quality, — a subjective somewhat always clings to them. 

Remark 2. The well-known biologist, Gustav Jaeger, has recently 
felt himself obliged to ascribe to the sense of smell an extensive role 
in the economy of life. According to him, there is a specific odor 
which spreads through the air, not only for whole classes of animals 
but also for every individual, by which their sympathies and antipa- 
thies are determined, and their instincts as to food and reproduction 
are guided. When this same writer in his work, "The Discovery of 
the Soul," goes so far as to try to prove that the seat and essence of 
the soul (!) are found in certain materials of smell, this "discovery" 
is hardly to be taken in earnest. 



\ 22. HEAEING. 

The specific energy with which the nerve of hearing 
answers to external stimuli is sound, although by this term 
is also meant, not alone the sound sensation (analogous to 
"heat and light"), but also the objective cause of the same. 

The adequate form of stimulus for the sense of hearing 
is found in the rapid, periodical motions of the minutest parts 
of an elastic sound-producing body, which are, as a rule, 
transmitted through the air in the form of waves, until they 
reach our ear. 



54 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

A periodical movement is one in which that which is 
moved returns to the same phase of motion at exactly equal 
time intervals. If this motion is slow, it may be followed 
by sight or touch, as in the case of the pendulum, the 
vibrating cord or bell. If it is too fast, these senses may 
recognize the presence, but not the individual elements of 
the movement; as, for in stance, the diminishing vibrations 
of a sounding string by the eye, or the vibrations of a sound- 
ing board by the hand. Nature has given us in hearing a 
special sense, by which we are enabled to distinguish with 
wonderful exactness the three constituting characteristics of 
the one element of this motion. 

The three characteristics by which this one element of 
periodical motion, viz. , the vibration or oscillation is marked, 
are as follows: 

1. The duration of the period, or of the time interval, 
between two successive and precisely similar phases of move- 
ment of the vibrating atom. This duration conditions the 
frequence of vibration, which is objectively measured by 
the number of vibrations to the second, but subjectively, 
on the other hand, through the specific energy of the sense of 
hearing, and is brought to our consciousness as height, or 
pitch, of tone. 

2. The amplitude of vibration, or the greatest remove 
of the vibrating parts from the position of rest. This is sub- 
jectively recognized as strength, or intensity of tone. 

3. The form of vibration, or the manner in which the 
motion, having the same duration and amplitude of vibra- 
tion, is, within a period, transmitted (in a straight line, 
in a circle, in an ellipse, etc.). The peculiarity of form of 
vibration is subjectively noticeable in the timbre or tone- 
color, by means of which two equally high and equally intense 
tones may yet for our ear be sharply distinguished from each 
other. 



HEARING. 55 

In hearing, we perceive either noises or musical sounds. 
The first are irregular, the latter regular combinations of 
the elements of a periodical motion. The simple sound pro- 
duced by vibrations with precisely similar periods, is tone. 
The combination of several single tones, the number of whose 
vibrations are all small multiples of a ground tone funda- 
mental to them, and which, therefore, so completely fuse 
with one another, that they unite for our ear into a single 
total sensation of a determined quality, produces the musical 
sound. The elements of a musical sound are called partial 
tones; the main tone is called the ground tone, and the 
higher tones, its overtones. The notes of musical instruments 
are not tones in this scientific sense, but musical sounds. 

Hearing is an analyzing sense, in so far as it is able to 
resolve a mass of compounded musical sounds into their indi- 
vidual component parts, as Helmholtz, in particular, has proved 
from the mechanics of auxiliary tones by the application of 
instruments of resonance exactly graded in pitch. 

Remark. — The ear consists of a finely arranged system of dimin- 
utive parts: — the tympanum, the chain of minute bones, the liquid of 
the labyrinth, the various parts of the cochlea. These have the func- 
tion of transmitting the oscillations produced by the sound-origin- 
ating body and transmitted through the air to the peripheral ramifica- 
tions of the auditory nerve in the labyrinth, by means of correspond- 
ing vibrations, The auditory canal which terminates the outer ear 
transmits chiefly only those vibrations whose amplitude is parallel to 
the direction of its length, and which therefore stand perpendicular 
to the tympanum, thus setting this as well as the connected system 
of bones, and mediately the elements of the labyrinth, into corre- 
sponding stronger or weaker vibrations according to the magnitude of 
the amplitude. Herein is explained loudness, or intensity of sound. 
The height of the tone is conditioned by the frequence of vibration, 
which falls upon the mind immediately as a time determination. To 
have explained timbre or tone-color objectively through the form of 
the vibrations, and subjectively through the physiological structure 
of the ear, is a merit of recent investigations concerning this sub- 



56 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

ject, with which we associate the names, G. S. Ohm, Fourier, Wag- 
ner, and others, but especially the name of H. Helmholtz. (Helm- 
holtz's classical writing, "Doctrine of Tone Sensations." 2nd edition, 
1865.) According to this we obtain a perception of timbre, in 
that the ear, even with compound sounds, separates the period- 
ical movement of the mass of air in the auditory cavities, which 
proceeds in a single direction, into a sum of pendulum-like vibra- 
tions, just as this division by means of a mathematical fiction is 
carried out in our understanding; and in that these simple vibrations 
are brought to our consciousness as simultaneous partial tones of the 
sound. This explanation presupposes that the ear is capable of con- 
veying to consciousness different tones as simultaneous and yet dis- 
tinct from one another. Whereas it was formerly assumed that all 
primitive nerve fibers were always in the same state of excitation, 
the investigations of Helmholtz have lead to the assumption that the 
sensations of tones of different pitch are associated with the excita- 
tion of different primitive nerve fibers. This excitation is effected 
by means of microscopic cortical fibers lying upon the walls of the 
cochlea, whose pitch is different and responds to a regular series 
through the musical scale. The ends of the auditory nerve are con- 
nected with these fibers. Just as when one causes a heavy sound to 
resound against the sounding-board of a piano, all the wires whose 
tones answer to the partial tones of the first sound, and only these, 
are set to vibrating, so only those fibers of- the cortical fiber-piano are 
set to vibrating by sound conducted to the ear, whose pitch corre- 
sponds to the partial tones of the sound. The view of Herbart, that 
probably to every musical tone a part of the organ of hearing corre- 
sponds, since simultaneous tones remain sundered in consciousness, 
finds support by this discovery. This view is sustained by J. Miiller, 
Oersted, and Fechner* Just as the partial tones of a musical sound 
are held apart by the mind, so are the tones of an accord, only much 
easier. Most easily we distinguish the simultaneous sounds from 
different sources (musical instruments or human voices), because they 
are particularly characterized by the noises which accompany them. 



I 23. SEEING. 

The specific energy by means of which the sense of sight 
answers to external stimuli is light, although this term is 



SEEING. 57 

applied not only to the sensation of seeing but to the objec- 
tive cause of the same. 

The adequate form of stimulus here, as with hearing, is 
the vibration, but of shorter amplitude and much greater 
speed than is the case with sound. 

These vibrations belong not to ponderable but to impon- 
derable bodies, to a supposed gaseous substance called ether. 
They are perpendicular to the radiating direction of the light, 
i. e., to the ray of light, and thus transverse; whereas the 
vibrations of the medium of sound proceed in the direction 
of the sound-ray; i. 6., longitudinally. 

These vibrations also may be distinguished by the three 
determining characteristics, duration of vibration, amplitude, 
and vibratory form, just as in the vibrations of sound (§ 22); 
but the relation of these three factors to the sensation of 
light, is partly out of analogy with the relations which we 
have learned regarding sound. 

That which we can distinguish in a sensation of light is 
not a threefold, as with sound, but only a twofold; it is light 
intensity, which corresponds to intensity of sound and depends 
upon the amplitude, and color, which corresponds to height 
of tone only in its physical origin, and depends upon the 
duration of vibration (frequence of vibration and length of 
wave), whereas in its subjective aspect it is to be placed par- 
allel, not to the height of tone, but to the verbally related 
tone-color, or timbre; i. e. , to the peculiarity of sound. Phys- 
ically, color depends upon the refrangibility of light, which 
is again conditioned by the length of wave and the duration 
of vibration, as is proved by the dispersion of white light and 
into the prismatic colors, red, orange, yellow, green, blue, 
indigo, and violet, so that the red rays have the least 
refrangibility, and the violet the greatest. The color spec- 
trum corresponds, therefore, to the scale of the piano. But 
although the different pitches announce themselves subject- 



58 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

ively even to the unmusical ear, so that the higher notes are 
recognized as such, and the mounting of the pitch and that of 
the sensation is in accordance with psycho-physical laws, yet 
there is nothing in the sensation of color which indicates any 
augmentation in the occasioning stimulus, and we should not 
suspect that red is the lowest and violet the highest color- 
tone, did not the physicist establish this relation for us as 
the result of an exact investigation. 

The simple or homogeneous colors are distinguished 
from mixed colors. The less white there is in color, the more 
homogeneous it is. White itself in all its decreasing grada- 
tions in intensity down to black may be regarded as the low- 
est degree of homogeneousness in a color. The most homo- 
geneous are the spectrum (rainbow) colors; all other colors 
seen through colored glasses, or obtained by the use of pig- 
ments, are not completely homogeneous. 

Red and violet, which stand at the extremes of the spec- 
trum (i. e., of the prismatic chart, also of the rainbow), pro- 
duce purple when mixed, and are related to each other like 
two adjacent colors of the spectrum, as, for instance, red 
and orange. * 

The color series is, therefore, not straight like the musi- 
cal scale, but forms a line whose end always approaches its 
beginning; that is, as respects purple, a closed curve or, 
more simply, a color-circle. 

Since the various colors in the spectrum have an unequal 
extension, there is in the color-circle an unequal arc and spec- 
trum surface corresponding to them. This is determined 
by the greatest number of noticeable gradations which can 
be distinguished in each color; this number is greatest in 
yellow and blue, and smallest in red and violet. 

Among the simple colors, there are a few noticeable on 
account of their independent character, whereas the others 
arc perceived as stages of transition between these. The 



SEEING. 59 

first are called primary colors, of which there are three — red, 
yellow, and blue. The others are called secondary colors. 

The eye is not able to distinguish whether any given 
color is homogeneous or mixed. The sensation of light* is 
always qualitatively simple. The eye is not able to make an 
analysis of it, as we have found the ear able to do in the case 
of the sensation of sound. 

Remark 1. — The eye, which is relatively the most independent 
part of the human body, is an active, dioptrical apparatus, not unlike 
a camera obscura. It consists of a succession of substances, mostly 
transparent, which, in accordance with their various curvatures, 
represent a system of optical lenses of most exact focus. In the back- 
ground of the eye, where the so-called blind spot is found, the optic 
nerve enters the eye ball, and spreads out into the retina, whose mosaic- 
like structure is adapted to allow an adequate attack upon the optic 
nerve by the ray of light, which, entering through the pupil, has 
passed through the refracting media of the eye, — the cornea, the 
aqueous humor, the lens, and the vitreous humor. In distinct and 
normal vision all rays of light which enter the eye from a point of 
a visible object unite in a point upon the retina, so that the parts of 
the object are projected upon the retina in an exceedingly minute 
image. Since the rays of light from different points cross at the 
focus before they reach the retina, the picture upon the retina is an 
inverted one. The nature of the attack of the rays of light upon 
the mosaic structure of the retina can not, in the present state of 
nerve-physics, be decided with certainty. Fechner's hypothesis is, 
that the nerve activity which is resolved by the light and sound stim- 
ulus, upon which the sensation of light and sound functionally depends, 
not less than the stimulus itself, is to be thought of under the form 
of vibratory movements (Psycho-Physics, II., p. 282). In regard to 
the sensation of color, Tho. Young has proposed the hypothesis, that 
there are in the eye three kinds of nerve fibers, to each of which is 
ascribed a different kind of sensation; viz., sensory nerves for red, 
for green, for violet. This theory, somewhat in analogy with the 
accepted theory of sound, has recently been supported by Helmholtz 
(Doctrine of Sound-Sensation, p. 221). Fechner assumes, in oppo- 
sition to this view, that all colors of the spectrum can be perceived 
by every optical nerve-fiber, the consequence of which is, that when 
different simple optical colors penetrate the same optic nerve-fiber, 



60 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

they, on account of interference, unite in a single middle state of vibra- 
tion, whose sensation is completely analogous to that of a simple color. 1) 

Remark 2. — Over against the many analogies between sound and 
light, we find significant deviations. Besides those already mentioned 
are the following: The color-scale [ranging for visible light between 
the limits of 481 million (red), and 764 million vibrations per second (vio- 
let)] comprises, according to Helmholtz, about an octave and a quarter, 
whereas the musical scale comprises a whole series of octaves. Even 
without any external light-stimulus, we have a positive light sensa- 
tion, that of the black field of vision, whereas we have no sound-sen- 
sation without sound stimulus. Black is, therefore, not analogous with 
silence. There are complementary colors, but not complementary 
tones. The peculiarity of coloring is so altered by the strength of 
the illumination, that certain colors approach white if the intensity 
of the light is greatly increased, etc. (Compare Fechner's Psycho- 
Physics, II., chapter 33, C.) 

Remark 3. — Under the microscope, the retina appears as a highly 
complex, wonderfully arranged structure. It consists of no less than 
ten different layers, the next to the last being the bacillar layer, com- 
posed of closely packed perpendicular rods, and covered by a layer of 
pigment-cells. Only this is sensitive to the light. According to the 
most recent investigations this excitation is photo-chemical; the 
light stimulus is transformed into chemical action before it attacks 
this layer of the retina, and the picture on the retina is, accordingly, 
chemically produced like that upon the photographic plate. 

Remark 4. — The theory of vision, lying on the borders of three 
sciences (physics, physiology, and psychology) forms a subject which 

1) Not without reason does Fechner assume that we by no means 
have the sensation of a simple color as it corresponds to the ether 
oscillations of simple periodicity, and that every optic nerve-fiber 
under the influence of even the simplest color stimulus effects a union 
of vibrations. (Psycho-Physics, II., p. 301.) That which we call 
homogeneous light would be consequently one which produces rela- 
tively the simplest subjective color-mixture. The fact of comple- 
mentary colors speaks for the correctness of this view. The explana- 
tion of color sensation by Young and Helmholtz is in contradiction 
to the fact that the objective homogeneous illumination of the 
whole field of vision answers also to a subjective homogeneous sensa- 
tion, that therefore the local distribution of the three kinds of sen- 
sory nerve-fibers of the retina is in no wise subjectively announced. 
This objection was proposed by C. Bonn, in 1865. 



SEEING. 61 

has been handled with great scientific energy. The most important 
points, regarding which reference must be made to physics and phys- 
iology, are especially the following; — The eye, which is mediate and 
in accordance with a scheme or plan — the doctrine of the accommo- 
dation of the eye — the topography of the retina according to merid- 
ians and the theory of identical retinal points — double and single 
vision and the theory of the horopter — the relation between light 
and color — subjective colors and optical illusions — the movements of 
the eye. Of these points, only the question of erect and simple vis- 
ion demands mention. Why, notwithstanding the inverted picture 
upon the retina, we see objects upright, is a question which may be 
disposed of by the remark, that the arrangement of the points of the 
retina is in itself not a ground for the mind's perception of space, 
and that, even if it were, it would be valid only for the relative posi- 
tion of the stimuli among themselves, but in no way for their posi- 
tion in space. Since, however, as will be shown later, muscular sen- 
sations are chiefly concerned in giving the eye its first experience in 
space, the eye having to sink in order to bring a lower retinal point 
to the place of distance vision (the center of the retina), it is clear 
that the report of the muscular sensation regarding above and below 
corresponds to actual conditions in space. 

Single vision with the two eyes is a question which, on the whole, 
needs an explanation, because it occurs under some circumstances, 
but does not under others. Simple vision with the two eyes will, in 
general, take place when the images from the same point of space 
fall identically upon the retinas; i. e., upon such points as correspond to 
each other upon the two retinas. The identical places upon the two 
retinal spheroids lie in such a way that they have the same latitude and 
longitude, provided one fixes the places upon them as Geography fixes 
the points upon the globe, and regards as poles those points where the 
line of vision touches the retina. If, however, the quality of light 
falling upon the identical points of the retinas is different, the mind 
sees the object in a mixed color. The relating of identical retinal stim- 
uli to the same point in space is evidently a matter of habit, and goes 
hand in hand with projection. Particulars concerning these relations 
may be found in Helmholtz's "Psychological Optics," in Volkmann's 
article "Vision," in Wagner's "Dictionary of Human Physiology," 
and in the appropriate technical periodicals. 



62 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

I 24. SENSE CONTRIBUTION TO KNOWLEDGE. 

The offices that the various senses play in spiritual life 
are very different. The vital sense creates a general percep- 
tion of our own organic life; the chemical senses stand in close 
relation to the bodily processes of nourishing and breathing; 
touch and sight participate in the perceptions of the spa- 
tially extended, whereas the world of changes in time falls 
to the sense of hearing. 

The noblest part in the disclosure of the external world 
belongs indisputably to the sense of sight, which gives rise 
to nine-tenths of all sense perceptions. Its impressions are 
so distinguished above the others in clearness and distinct- 
ness that language borrows its figures for the perfection 
of knowledge from this sense (idea, insight, evidence, intui- 
tion), and the perceptions arising from the other senses must, 
for the sake of scientific comparison, be reduced to optical 
perceptions; as, for example, temperatures to the length of 
a tube of quicksilver, difference in weight to the graduation 
on the arm of the scales, etc. 

To the sense of sight is added that of touch, controlling 
and rectifying it. Whereas the perceptions of sight lead 
only to surface images, which not seldom extend to optical 
illusions, we gain, through the tangibility of the sense of 
touch, the conviction of the solidity of external things and 
their material peculiarity. The two senses work most inti- 
mately together, so that touch presents only a rude seeing in 
the immediate neighborhood (touch of the blind), the sense 
of sight only a refined touching at a distance. 

In connection with the mobility of the organ of sight, 
the greatest assistance is furnished by the touch of the human 
hand which is here brought to its highest perfection, in that 
this sense arranges external objects for the best and most 
complete comprehension. The hand works with the eye in 



SENSE CONTRIBUTION TO KNOWLEDGE. C3 

the most intimate manner; without the hand the compass of 
optical perceptions would remain limited to that which acci- 
dentally presents itself to the eye, whereas we now, by means 
of the skillful use of the hand, compel objects to reveal their 
most hidden aspects to the eye. In addition, we work with 
hand tools, with which we again produce more complete 
instruments, until in this way we arrive at those instru- 
ments which, partly because they arm our senses with an 
energy far beyond their ordinary achievements, and partly 
on account of the disclosure of entirely new kinds of natural 
activities (e. g., electrical action through the electroscope), 
are to be regarded as artificial organs of sense. D 

Hearing assists but little in, the knowledge of that which 
is extended in space, but all the more for the perception of 
that which occurs or develops in time. Silence is the picture 
of fixedness and death; all motion, all change, all life, are 
connected with the production of sound. But not only outer, 
but also inner change is revealed by hearing, and just as 
sound comes from within and depends upon the material qual- 
ities of the sound producer (straw, wood, iron, silver, 



1) The hand, provided with members, duplicated, and finely sen- 
sitive, is a specifically human organ, comparable to a universal sense. 
The animal which in physical regard stands next to man, the ele- 
phant (not the ape), possesses in the proboscis the organ which 
approaches the hand most nearly, although it lacks the separation 
into fingers, the opposition of the thumb, and the presence of a dupli- 
cate of this organ, If we would exalt the service of the hand for 
the disclosure of nature, serving as it does both understanding and 
will, we need only to think of the apparatus and experimenting art 
of the physicist. Nature has given us no special sense for electricity 
and magnetism, which are closely related, such as we have for light, 
heat, and sound. A magnetic storm may rage at our feet, setting the 
magnetic needle into violent vibrations, yet we perceive it not, except 
when we have provided ourselves with an artificial sense in the mag- 
netic declinator, which announces to us the slightest variation of the 
magnetic earth-force, but through translation into optical language. 
For electric currents, which announce themselves to our senses only 
when they have arrived at a certain intensity, we possess in Schwei- 
ger's Multiplicator an instrument of the highest sensitiveness, which 
shows the presence of the slightest current. 



64 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

stretched membrane, clock ware), so it reveals to our ear 
the hidden peculiarities of things which evade the seeing eye 
or the touching hand, and which so peculiarly affect us in 
the mingling of the various sounds of nature, in the wonder- 
ful expression of the human voice, but above all in language 
and music. 

So the sense-perceptions work together to assist us to a 
knowledge of the outer world, of which lights and colors, 
noises and musical sounds, smells and tastes, degrees of 
warmth, hardness, and roughness, are to be regarded as ele- 
ments. Our perceptions of the same external thing, gained 
through the different senses, come together in our conscious- 
ness into a whole, or total perception, of which the sight- 
perception takes its central place, hence the name intuition 1 ) 
(Anschauung). 

Thus, in the sense-perception (intuition) of common salt, 
for example, are included the whitish color, the hexahedral 
form, the peculiar taste, the rough, hygroscopic feeling, and 
the peculiar crackling when pressed together. It is the vital 
sensation of the body in company with the perceptions of the 
senses which furnishes an "intuition," or sense-perception, of 
the latter. 

Remark 1. — The sum of our perceptions forms the circle of our 
sense experience, and at the same time the material which conditions 
all the higher activities of our soul. The greatest extension of this cir- 
cle is seen in the first years of life, and in the following periods of 
childhood and youth, and it also experiences constant extension during 
middle life. Travels in foreign countries, intercourse with men, 
attendance at expositions, theaters, galleries, museums, menageries, 
collections of art, factories and workshops, mines, the examination 
of varieties and curiosities, are capable of greatly widening this 
compass of sense experience. These sense-perceptions form also the 



1) The etymological meaning of this term is apparent, but its 
signification has become so ambiguous through extension, that it is 
thought best not to retain it in the sense of a direct act of cognition 



through the senses. — Translator. 



BODILY MOVEMENTS. 65 

illustrations for our mental life; where they are lacking, all activity 
of mind degenerates into an idle play of thought. It is with reason, 
therefore,that modern didactics proposes to make instruction concrete, 
or objective, as a cardinal requirement, and demands demonstrations 
and experiments wherever they are admissible. (The Orbis Pictus 
of Amos Comenius as the beginning point of this tendency.) 

Remark 2. — Animals also have senses, whose number hardly 
ranges above five, while with many animals the number is decidedly 
smaller; and there are animals which feel only. On the other hand, 
certain senses with animals are capable of a particular intensifying 
of their function. Usually the apparatus of sense is simpler with 
animals than with man. Thus, as we descend in the animal king- 
dom, we find that parts of these organs drop off one by one — with 
the ear, the outer ear, the chain of bones, the parts composing the 
labyrinth; — with the eye, the parts of the dioptrical apparatus, until, 
finally, a nervous membrane takes the place of the whole organ. The 
conditions under which animals live lead, likewise, to peculiar devia- 
tions in the structure of the organs of sense. The compound eye of 
the insect, with its mosaic sight, is based upon an entirely different 
principle from that of the eye of man; it offers wide limits of accom- 
modation with less distinctness. So, perhaps, our world of variegated 
colors and forms is, with the lower animals, gradually reduced more 
or less to one of mere light; the world of musical sounds or individual 
noises, to one of mere noise. (See the exact presentation of this sub- 
ject by C. Bergmann and R. Leuckart, "Comparative Anatomy and 
Physiology," p. 436.) 



I 25. BODILY MOVEMENTS. 

Muscles and motor nerves comprise the motive apparatus 
of our body. Motion is excited by an impulse conducted by 
a motor nerve fiber in centrifugal direction, and executed by 
a muscular contraction. 

Movements are distinguished as voluntary or involuntary, 
according as the ground for the same lies in the soul or not, 
i. 6., in a volition. Between the two lie those movements 
which may be termed automatic. Their source, but not their 
consequence, is to be found in mental activity. 



66 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

Involuntary movements are reflections of sensations ex- 
cited from without. The excitation of a sensory nerve pene- 
trates to a nerve center, and, by means of a ganglion, is here 
transferred to the central end of a motor nerve, whereby a cer- 
tain motion is impelled, without any action of the soul itself. 
The simplest case of such transmission is that of reflex move- 
ments, which relate mostly to the warding off of harmful 
attacks from without, and to the unconscious utilization of that 
which is useful. They occur even in beheaded animals, and 
often take on the appearance of purpose, since the motor 
nerves are so arranged in the organism of the animal that the 
stimulation of a given central ganglion excites complex 
states, and therefore stimulates connected movements. In 
the instinctive movements of lower animals these machine-like 
reflex-actions are at their highest stage of development, 
whereas in man they retire before the rule of intelligence. 

Automatic movements are those that arise mechanically, 
being occasioned by the mental states which attend them. 
To this class belong first, imitative and facial movements, as 
well as bodily manifestations of emotion. They are withdrawn 
from our discernment and partially from our direction. Ges- 
ture and play of feature are not wholly within our control 
(otherwise the formation of physiognomy, which is feature 
and gesture made permanent, would be within our power), 
and we can give no reason why laughing should be associated 
with pleasure, and crying with pain. 

Next follow imitative movements, in which the percep- 
tion of movement breaks out the more into actual motion, the 
less self-control hinders it. To this also belong locomotive 
motions of the body, as in walking, dancing, swimming, prac- 
ticing of gymnastics, etc. All these movements are proba- 
bly caused by muscular sensations, which call forth motions 
corresponding to those by which they were themselves for- 
merly produced. 



BODILY MOVEMENTS. 67 

Voluntary movements, finally, are those which are im- 
pelled and carried out in specific directions by the Will. This 
execution presupposes control of the apparatus of motion, 
which is gradually gained in the course of life through con- 
stant attempts at movement, and long continued exercises. 

Remark. — At first bodily movements are consequences which 
make their appearance with the regularity of a natural mechanism, 
upon the occasion of certain stimuli. This mechanism remains hidden 
from our insight throughout our whole life, and the mind succeeds 
only gradually in its attempts to govern the mechanism, just as a 
workman by moving levers and valves controls a machine of whose 
inner structure he has no conception. "Keflex motions appear, like 
the letters of the alphabet, as the simplest elements of that accord- 
ance with design which mechanically determines nature — which 
serves the soul since it leaves to the mind, under the united influ- 
ence of perception and reflection, the combination of these elements 
into sufficiently accurate and effective means" (Lotze). In the animal 
world the combination of these elements is by no means left to voli- 
tion, but is determined by the arrangement of the central parts of the 
nervous system, so that a given stimulus calls forth, not the element- 
ary motion, but whole groups and series of like motions. The fore- 
going illustration of the mechanism holds especially of animals, 
whereas the soul of man is more in the condition of the piano player, 
who entices harmonious tones from an instrument whose mechanism 
is unknown to him, by means of well designed strokes. Whereas, 
then, the apparatus of motion in the human body presents a univer^ 
sal instrument, which the soul can apply to the most various pur- 
poses under the influence of practice, the body of the animal, espec- 
ially with the lower animals, is throughout a machine, which the 
animal, by means of instinct, can use in only one way, that, namely, 
which is conditioned by the inner mechanical arrangement. The body 
of the spider is a spinning apparatus, that of the fish a swimming 
apparatus. "The organism of the chicken is so arranged that it can 
pick up grains, and it does this immediately as soon as the stimulus 
given to the center of sensation through the optical apparatus, has 
set in motion the first motion necessary to this end. The chick 
will do this as soon as it has left the shell, and even bef ore"(Lewes) . 



68 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

I 26. THE SENSE-PERCEPTION. 

Sensations are mental states, which, though occasioned 
by external stimuli, have in themselves a purely subjective 
character. We learn only gradually to refer these subjective 
states to the occasioning stimuli, and thereby use them as 
means to our knowledge of the outer world. 

The sensation with reference to the outer object which 
it brings to our consciousness is called a sense-perception. 
The perception relates to something which has been per- 
ceived as its actual object, whether this object be a thing, a 
quality, or an event. Whereas in the case of body-sensations 
the perception is limited to our own body, it is referred in 
the case of the sense-perceptions to the outer world. Colors, 
sounds, smells, and tastes, degrees of hardness and weight, 
are peculiarities in the aspect of external things, which we 
perceive by means of the sensation, and which we ascribe to 
external things as qualities. 

That the sensation may become a perception, it must be 
freed, or separated from the totality of impression caused by 
that which is simultaneously felt; i. e., it must be isolated, 
and referred to the external stimulus which caused it; i. e., 
be projected. The perception is, therefore, nothing more than 
a sensation, isolated from all others, and outwardly projected. 

The process of isolating and projecting sensations falls 
in the first period of life. The new born child looks, but 
without seeing; it hears without understanding; it has sen- 
sations without having perceptions. The sensations unite in 
its consciousness to a* purely intensive sound-sensation, in 
which all sensations falling in the same beat fuse into an 
inseparable whole of impression, which announces itself sub- 
jectively, according to its tone, as pleasant or painful, with- 
out allowing any significance of content to its elements. No 
conscious relation to the outer world occurs at this stage. 



THE SENSE-PERCEPTION. 69 

This begins with the isolation of individual sensations, 
or, since complete isolation never wholly occurs, of simple 
combinations of sensations, as a consequence of their excep- 
tional strength and their opposition to other simultaneously 
perceived sensations. When a sensation is lifted far above 
its threshold value, while the other simultaneous sensations 
relatively or perhaps entirely retire before it, it can be easily 
distinguished from them; i. e., be isolated. So, in a confu- 
sion of tones, those are at first perceived which on account 
of strength or opposition separate themselves from the others. 

The projection of sensations is brought about through 
the system of local signs. By a local sign is understood that 
peculiar coloring of a sensation which depends, not on the 
outer object as such, but on the direction of its attack against 
the periphery of the sensory nerves. If all stimuli which 
touch the periphery at a certain place give rise to a common 
content of sensation, it is clear that all these sensations are 
to be related to a common origin, and in case the idea of 
space has already developed in the soul, to the same place. 
So it happens that we locate sensations out of the soul in the 
body, and according to circumstances outside of the body in 
the outer world. Thus we perceive the pain of a wound in the 
wounded spot; and, after the amputation of a limb, even in 
the missing member. Sounds and colors, on the other hand, 
we do not locate in the ear and eye, but in the outer world. 

Projection, also, which with the acquisition of the idea 
of space develops to localization, is a matter of practice. The 
infant does not localize; even in painful operations its hands 
need not be held, since it does not know the seat of the pain 
and does not know how to find it with the hand. And even 
the adult often projects falsely, since he locates the humming 
in the ear or the gnat in front of the eye at a distance. 

Remark 1. — The isolation of individual combinations of sensa- 
tions is in many cases the consequence of a movement of the object. 



70 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

When the child follows a moving object with the eye, all the sight 
sensations which the eye receives simultaneously from the neighbor- 
hood change in rapid succession, and only the sensations originating 
in the moving object remain unchanged. The sensation from this 
object comes into relief against the changing surroundings; the atten- 
tion is awakened and the perception begins. 

Remark 2. — The local signs rest partly upon the sympathetic sen- 
sations, which arise from radiation of the sense stimulus, as was 
shown in the sensation of touch ($ 20), and partly upon muscular 
sensations which accompany the outward impression. For the per- 
ception is not a mere passive reception from without, as the sensa- 
tion perhaps might be; it is rather mediated in all cases through 
active movements, which effect a favorable adjustment of the organ 
of sense or a series of such favorable adjustments, and which are 
reflected in our consciousness by means of muscular sensations. In 
this way hearing becomes listening; sight, looking; and smell, scent- 
ing, or tracing by smell. These movements of adjustments are least 
developed in hearing, although they are not wholly lacking there; in 
hearing we have only the obscure muscular sensation of a certain 
tension of the auditory apparatus, without any essential differentia- 
tion of the muscular sensations for the different directions of sound. 
For this reason the sound perceived through one ear alone may per- 
haps be projected outward, but in no wise localized. Adjusting move- 
ments are most perfect in the eye, which, being capable of great 
mobility, is alone able to effect a precise localization as regards dis- 
tances. 

Remark 3. — The perception is not a simple somewhat, nor is it 
originally in the soul. It is not simple, because even the single tone 
or the single color is a synthesis of several partial sensations, to 
which are added the sensations which give rise to the local signs; but 
neither is it anything original to the soul, because it is the result of 
a gradually widening experience as to the relation of this or that to 
the mass of what is simultaneously given in sensation. A more 
exact description of the process which is fundamental to the forma- 
tion of perceptions will be given later in the theory of attention and 
of the notion of space. 



CHAPTER II. 

REPRODUCTION OF CONCEPTS. WHAT BECOMES 

OF THEM. 

\ 27. CLEAR AND OBSCUKE CONSCIOUSNESS. 

The total of all concepts possessed by a person at any- 
given moment forms the consciousness of that person for 
that moment. 1 ) 

The number of concepts which form this consciousness 
is immeasurably great. For, even the single ' ' general sen- 
sation" (2 18) we have considered as the sum total of num- 
berless single sensations which answer to the organic changes 
of the whole body. 

To consciousness concerning the body, brought about by 
this general sensation, is to be added consciousness concern- 
ing the external world, effected by the senses. We know not 
only about the changes within our body, but also about the 
events without, because they are announced to our conscious- 
ness through sensations, even from considerable distances, 
by means of sound and light. 

We have, finally, each moment, a multitude of concepts 
in the narrower sense of the term (? 13), to which no imme- 
diate sense impressions correspond, and which are to be 
explained through the continued existence of sensations 
which have formerly been present in consciousness. 



1) That the content of this consciousness is, like the view in a 
revolving kaleidoscope, a perpetually changing one, so that it is diffi- 
cult to determine it for a single moment, is sufficiently well known to 
every observer of mental activities. 



72 



EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 



The form in which these numberless concepts meet in 
order to effect consciousness is that of synthesis into the 
strictest unity, — the form of interpenetration even for con- 
cepts which arise from objects separated in space. 

Where that which is so numerous, so manifold, and even 
so different in kind is brought together into a strict unity, 
it can not be expected that one element should distinguish 
itself clearly from the others, but it is rather conceivable that 
the many should now together into an obscure unorganized 
chaos. Not clearness, therefore, but obscurity is the orig- 
inal form of consciousness, as is the case with the new born 
child, the majority of animals, and with the adult in the con- 
dition of sleep. 

This obscurity lasts as long as the concepts are equal, 
or nearly equal, in strength; or, figuratively speaking, as 
long as they stand equally high above the threshold of 
consciousness: 

(Fig. 2.) 
A 



Very soon, however, the occasion arises for individual 
concepts to be distinguished from the others, either through 
the strength of the sense impression, or through connection 
with other related concepts: 

(Fig. 3.) 
A 



m 




K 



\ 



\ 



CLEAR AND OBSCURE CONSCIOUSNESS. 73 

As a matter of course, the other concepts must to the 
same degree sink below the threshold (wholly or partially), 
whereby a focusing and narrowing or concentrating of con- 
sciousness occurs, the former at A, and the latter from mn 
to op. 

In this way, a severe bodily pain distinguishes itself 
from the other sensations arising from the body, the concept 
of a brightly illuminated object from those of other objects; 
in the same way, the form of an acquaintance is clearly per- 
ceived amid a crowd of persons. 

Our consciousness can, therefore, extend over an unlim- 
ited number of concepts, or can be focused in a narrow circle 
of concepts which belong together. In the first case the 
concepts remain obscure, in the latter they become clear. 
"We distinguish, therefore, an obscure (potential), and a clear 
(actual) state of consciousness. 

The activity of the soul which effects the concentrating and 
focusing of our consciousness so that clearness results, is called 
attention. The attention is always directed to a single 
object, which is at the focus of mental activity, and about 
which all that is related to it gathers; whereas all that is 
foreign to it (mo and pn), is pressed below the threshold of 
consciousness. If the object of attention is an extended or 
complex one, as is usually the case, the focus of attention 
moves from one point to another. 

The opposite of attention is a general distraction or 
absent-mindedness, which turns to no special object (listless- 
ness, indifference, sleepiness). A partial absent-mindedness; 
i. e.j inattention for everything except for a special object, is 
inseparably united to the condition of attention, for to be 
attentive to one thing means to be inattentive to all else. For 
example, the absent-mindedness of many scholars for events 
in their neighborhood in consequence of attention directed 
to study is well known. Many things which occur in our 



74 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

neighborhood are lost to us, because our attention is other- 
wise directed. When, for example, we are absorbed in some 
activity, we do not hear the stroke of the clock, do not notice 
the entrance of a person, etc. Archimedes, intent upon his 
geometrical figures, could thus fail to hear the war cries at 
the siege of Syracuse. The objective conditions of the sense- 
perception are not wanting, the waves of sound reach the 
ear, the rays of light enter the eye, and there is no doubt 
that certain obscure sensations are present in the mind; but 
the attention is directed to other things. 

The attention may follow the strongest impressions in- 
voluntarily (lightning, contrasted phenomena, the novel), but 
it can also be voluntarily directed to the most insignificant 
things. 1 ) 

Remark 1. — The greater number of our concepts belong to obscure 
consciousness, and Leibnitz long ago made the striking remark, that 
our clear concepts are like islands, which rise above the ocean of 
obscure ones. The Psycho-Physic law (§ 16) teaches us that the 
threshold of the (clear) sensation lies higher than the zero point of 
the stimulus. Those stimuli which lie below the threshold value, do 
not, however, pass by entirely without trace; numerous experiences 
show that they leave in our consciousness obscure concepts as traces. 
If the stimulus which lies below the threshold yalue suddenly ceases, 
we become conscious of it, though we had not noticed its positive 
reaction; we perceive when the pendulum suddenly stops; one awakes 
from deep sleep in a mill when the machinery suddenly ceases to 
move. While these concepts were originally obscure, there is a more 
numerous class of concepts now obscure, which originally arose from 
obscurity into clearness. All concepts which were once in conscious- 
ness belong to this innumerable host. 

Remark 2. — The obscure concepts are of extraordinary impor- 
tance for the process of soul life; nor has this importance, up to the 
present time, been fully recognized. They constitute in our con- 
sciousness a chorus, which, though not appearing in an active role, 



1) The more exact significance of attention can only be given 
later. (See \ 46.) 



CLEAR AND OBSCURE CONSCIOUSNESS. 75 

yet continually mingle in the drama of soul life. The obscure con- 
cepts are to our consciousness, what the great mass of people are to 
society. From them comes the motive power which guides the activ- 
ities above the threshold of consciousness. 

Remark 3. — Clear consciousness may be thought as the circle of 
those concepts upon which attention rests. Experience shows us that 
this circle, like the pupil of the eye, can be extended or contracted 
within certain rather wide limits. The greatest narrowing occurs 
when we concentrate our attention upon a single object, as, for 
example, when we become absorbed in thought, or narrowly observe 
an outward phenomenon; the greatest extension takes place when 
we widen the bounds of the narrow consciousness to its greatest 
extent, in which case there would be really no concentration of mind 
and no attention. It is apparent that the width of this circle is 
indirectly proportional to the clearness of its single points; i. e., 
that our attention is so much the less intensive, the more extensive it 
is, or the more it is divided. 

Remark 4. — The attention is involuntary when it is awakened and 
guided by the sense-impressions themselves, without the agency of 
the Will; it is voluntary when it stands under the influence of the 
Will. Powerful sense stimuli are able to arouse our attention, because 
strong sensations correspond to them; but even the gentlest impres- 
sions can make their way into our clear consciousness, when they are 
met by that form of consciousness known as interest. (The observa- 
tions of the astronomer, the physicist, the physician, the angler, the 
impassioned man.) It is well known that new impressions in par- 
ticular excite our attention, because here the perception is more 
easily distinguished from the mass of the others on account of its 
contrast. (Perception of a comet.) It is also known that, up to a 
certain limit, attention rests under the influence of the Will. With- 
out changing the position of the eye in the least, we can make clear 
now this, now that part of the field of vision through an application 
of the attention, and in a concert it is easy to attend, now to the 
stringed, now to the wind instruments, now to the height of the tones, 
now to their force. 

Remark 5. — Attention manifests itself not only in the elevation 
of a concept into a certain degree of clearness, but also in the retention 
(fixing) of the same; i. e., the retaining of this degree of clearness 
through a measurable time. Only in this way can a concept escape 



76 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

for a short time the universal fate of concepts, which is, in the change 
of psychical states, to sink below the threshold of consciousness. As is 
known, children can not retain even a sense-impression for a long 
time, and it is rightly held to be a characteristic of a rightly formed 
consciousness, that it can retain a thought through changes of 
impressions and ideas, and examine it in all its relations. Herbart 
rightly remarks, "Quodcumque summl homines valent ingenio et deli- 
gentia, id valent attentione" 



I 28. FUNDAMENTAL LAWS FOR THE RECIPROCAL 
ACTION OF CONCEPTS. 

A numberless multitude of concepts constantly press 
into consciousness (clear consciousness), partly from the cur- 
rent of body-sensations and from the five senses, partly from 
the side of the circle of obscure concepts; for, every obscure 
concept strives to come into consciousness, and would suc- 
ceed, were it not hindered by a similar striving of the other 
obscure concepts. 

Our consciousness is not able to receive all these con- 
cepts; for, otherwise, the representing power of the soul 
would be an infinite magnitude. D Experience teaches, rather, 
that in the measure in which we apply our mental activity to 
one object, we must withdraw it from all' others. This fact 
is called the concentration of consciousness. 

On account of this narrowing or concentrating of con- 
sciousness, the concepts come into reciprocal competition, in 
that they severally contest for the floor of consciousness. The 
cause of this contest is the opposite nature of the concepts, 
in that each strives to determine consciousness in a different 
sense (black, white, high, low, motion, rest). The effect is 



1) The soul's power of representation is a finite one, an unchange- 
able magnitude for a certain class of conditions. This power is by 
no means a constant one for different time points, but is subject to 
very great variations, as appears in the highest pitch of passion, its 
upper, and in the calmness of deep sleep, its lowest limit. 



FUNDAMENTAL LAWS. 77 

reciprocal arrest, which consists in this, that the effect of 
every concept; i. e., mental activity as consciousness of the 
content of the concept, is wholly or partially restrained. 

Only those concepts are free from arrest, between which 
there is no opposition in nature. They are, first, those of 
like, and, second, those of totally different nature (like and 
disparate concepts). The concepts " white" and "cold," in 
the including concept "snow," do not arrest each other. 

Similar concepts (§ 15), like white and black, cold and 
hot, are opposed, and arrest each other; they reciprocally 
obscure one another and sink below the threshold of con- 
sciousness. 

That which remains after the arrest must unite into a 
strict unity, for (according to the foregoing paragraph) the 
form of consciousness is that of strictest synthesis into unity. 

Whereas different kinds of concepts unite with their full 
intensities (degrees of strength), because they are free from 
opposition in their nature, the similar kinds of concepts (op- 
posed) unite with only those degrees of intensity remaining 
after the arrest. In the first case the union, or synthesis, is 
complete, in the latter it is incomplete; the former we will call 
groups, or complications; the latter, fusions. To the groups 
of concepts belong especially perceptions of individual things, 
whose characteristics, however, on account of their non-com- 
parableness, are free from every opposition (2 24). When I 
perceive a group of men, the sensations which relate to one 
individual form a complication, or group, but those which 
relate to the whole group of men, form a fusion of concepts. 

From what has been said, the following simple laws for 
the reciprocal interaction of concepts may be derived: 

1. Simultaneous concepts fuse; i. e., they flow together 
into a single act of cognition, 

2. Simultaneous concepts of different natures fuse with- 
out arrest into a total concept (complication). 



78 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

3. Simultaneous concepts of opposed nature first arrest 
one another and then fuse with degrees of intensity remain- 
ing from the arrest. 

4. Total concepts are either complete or incomplete syn- 
theses, either complications (groups) or fusions in the nar- 
rower sense. 

Remark, — Perceptions are the first permanent combinations of 
the elements of our cognizing activity, namely, the sensations arising 
from the senses like words from letters. All our perceptions rest 
upon the synthesis of particular colors and forms with specific tones, 
impressions of touch, smells, and tastes. But perceptions are grouped 
again into higher, more compound concept-structures, as words of a 
language unite to make sentences. The perception of a landscape, 
extending before our eyes, is a very complicated concept structure, 
to whose comprehension the mere opening of the eyes in the direc- 
tion of the stream of light by no means suffices; for, animals, chil- 
dren, and idiots turn their eyes toward the landscape without obtain- 
ing a perception of it. One must first have gained a sense-perception 
of the leaf, the tree, the thicket, etc., before one can succeed in find- 
ing the bearing of things in a landscape by means of the eye. 



I 29. ARREST IN PARTICULAR. 

Arrest relates not to the content, but to the intensity of 
concepts (? 15); it is not a change in the concept itself, but is 
a diminishing of the concept power. 

The concepts support this lessening of their power in 
indirect proportion to their original strength, or intensity. 
The weaker a concept is the greater is the part of the sum of 
arrest which it must take upon itself. If this part becomes 
greater than its original strength, the magnitude of its actual 
representing power becomes reduced below the zero point; 
i. e. , the concept sinks below the threshold of consciousness. 
The arrest of concepts leads therefore to the obscuring of 
those which can least resist. Experience teaches us that those 



ARREST IN PARTICULAR. 79 

concepts which suffer arrest constantly sink out of conscious- 
ness to make place for others. On account of this coming 
and going, our consciousness is subjected to a constant move- 
ment, in that the equipoise of the concepts changes from 
moment to moment. 

The share of arrest which the total concept must assume 
is divided among its elements, i. e., among the partial con- 
cepts. They reciprocally assist one another in supporting 
the arrest; one helps the other to assert itself in conscious- 
ness against opposition. They are called, therefore, ' ' helps. " 
In a total concept, M (image of our home), composed of many 
partial concepts, A, B, C, (parental house, environ- 
ment, father, mother, brothers, and sisters, ), these 

partial concepts are ' ' helps " for one another and for the total 
concept, M; their effect is to prevent this from being perma- 
nently obscured. If one of these partial concepts is in itself 
very weak, for example, C, it can, notwithstanding, by the 
aid of the others maintain itself against the arrest, which 
would not be the case if it stood unconnected in consciousness. 
So, in the total picture of our home, even the most insignifi- 
cant features appear, whereas much stronger impressions, for 
example, those received upon journeys, are irreparably lost. 

The force with which a concept resists arrest depends 
not only upon its original strength, but also upon its fusion 
with other concepts. ' ' Fusion mitigates the force of the 
arrest, in that it diffuses this force." But it must be here 
noted, that partial concepts assist one another only in so far 
as they are fused together, complications or groups of con- 
cepts; e. g., perceptions (? 28), manifest a greater capability 
of resistance than do imperfect fusions, because the partial 
concepts in the former case appear as helps to one another 
with their full intensity, whereas, in the latter case, the 
amount of help is measured by the intensity remaining after 
arrest. 



80 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

Through fusion, arrest is extended also to concepts be- 
tween which there was originally no opposition. A and B 
(light stimulus and sound excitation) are originally disparate, 
and therefore free from arrest; but B is fused with A l3 which 
is opposed to A. In this way, A,, as partial concept of A 1 B, 
is drawn into the arrest. On this account we close the eyes 
in order to receive the full effect of a piece of music. Upon 
this rests the fact established by Bessel, that in astronomical 
observations the exactness of sight perceptions is injured by 
simultaneous perceptions of hearing (e. </. , by noting the 
strokes of a pendulum — personal mistakes in observations). 

Remark 1. — If one wishes, with Herbart, to subject the arrest of 
concepts to mathematical calculation, in order to calculate the share 
of the partial concepts in arrest, one must know, 1) the sum of arrest, 
and 2), the relation of the arrest. With two concepts, A and B, whose 
intensities are respectively a and b, and whereby a > b, the sum of 
arrest in complete opposition would evidently be equal to the strength 
of the weaker concept, that is, equal to b; for suppose by a fiction 
that B is under total arrest, the power of the two concepts to unite 
is made out, and all ground for further arrest is removed. But in 
reality, this sum of arrest, b, is not borne alone by B, but by A 
and B in common, and, more exactly, in indirect proportion to their 
strength. 

In order to calculate the share in arrest of A and B, one needs 
only to apply the rule of fellowship, and to assume b as the sum to 
be divided. If x and y are the shares in arrest of A and B respect- 
ively, we have, according to the rule of fellowship: 

1. (a + b) :b = b:x h 2 ab 

therefore x = , y 



2. (a + b) : brra:y a _|_ b * a _)_ b . 

After arrest, the two concepts, A and B, fuse with the values, a — x 
and b — y. Were, for example, the intensities of two entirely opposed 
concepts 12 and 6 before the arrest, the sum of arrest would be 6, and 
the share of arrest of the stronger concept, namely 2, is half as great 
as the weaker, namely 4, and their remainders of intensity after the 
arrest are accordingly 10 and 2. Should y=b or y — b, though with 
merely two concepts this could not happen, the remainder of actual rep- 



REPRODUCTION OF CONCEPTS. 81 

resenting intensity would be zero or negative for B; that is, B would 
suffer obscuration. It is considerations of this sort that lie at the 
basis of "The Statics and Dynamics of Concepts" founded by Her- 
bart, whose design can by no means be the calculations in concrete 
form of the actual processes of consciousness, 1) because these pro- 
cesses are, in the first place, far too complicated and inconstant, and 
second, because a measurement of the intensity of a concept is not 
possible (Compare \ 16, Eemark 31). 

Remark 2. — If the two opposed concepts, A and B, meeting in con- 
sciousness, are reduced from their original intensities, a and b, to those 
corresponding to the laws of arrest, ai and bi, there is no occasion for 
further arrest; equipoise is established, and the two concepts, A and 
B, with their remainders, ai and bi, fuse into a total concept, AB. In 
this way, A sinks from a to ai, B from b to bi, and therefore pass 
through a series of degrees of intensity, to which time is necessary. 
This results in the notion of a movement of concepts, which though 
in reality only one through different intensities, may figuratively be 
regarded as a movement toward the threshold of consciousness. This 
sinking movement, as the passage through different degrees of inten- 
sity in a certain time, will take place with an increasing velocity. 
For the sinking of concepts is proportional to the sum of arrest; the 
more the concepts are already arrested, however, the smaller will be 
the sum of arrest, but, therefore, the necessity also to a further sink- 
ing. Concepts approach their position of equipoise slower and slower, 
but without ever entirely reaching it. "Our mind is very often nearly, 
but never entirely, at rest" (Herbart). 



I 30. REPRODUCTION OF CONCEPTS. 

The total arrest of a concept is its obscuration, or eclipse. 
Its degree of clearness becomes zero, it sinks beneath the 



1) Exact investigations of this subject have led to the result that 
the sum of arrest between several concepts is equal to the sum of all 
the concepts excepting the strongest. From this it follows, further, 
that the accumulation of numerous concepts of small intensity may 
produce a significant sum of arrest, which is then divided chiefly 
among the weaker concepts, and explains the depressing effect of 
numerous obscure concepts upon the sum total of consciousness. 



82 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

threshold, we are no longer conscious of it. The obscuration 
of a concept is, however, not its extermination, but only a 
latent condition of the conceiving power. This is proved by 
the fact of reproduction. 

By reproduction is understood the return of obscured 
concepts to consciousness. Experience shows that every con- 
cept which was ever in consciousness, can, under favorable 
circumstances, return to consciousness. 

These favorable circumstances consist in the removal of 
the arrest which caused the obscuration. 

A concept may be freed from the arrest which caused it 
to disappear from consciousness in two ways, — either by 
itself or through the assistance of other concepts. The first 
arises when a concept like the first enters consciousness; the 
second, when a concept which has been combined or fused 
with the first enters consciousness. In the former case, sim- 
ilarity, or equality; in the latter, simultaneity appears to be 
the real cause of reproduction. 

A concept, A, returns to consciousness through its own 
power, when a similar concept, A 1? enters. The opposites of 
A are also the opposites of A l5 and while A x struggles against 
its own opposing concepts, it at the same time assists A to a 
victory, by removing arrest from it. The arrested concept, 
A, is thus freed from arrest, and it arises into consciousness 
through its own power. In the same way a spiral spring 
rises when the weight which held it is removed. 

But a concept, A, may return to consciousness because 

it is fused with others, B, C, into a total concept M, 

which equals A, B, C B and C appear as " helps'' 

for A, and bring it above the threshold. In this case A is 
reproduced because it had been in consciousness simultane- 
ously with B and C one or more times. 

Reproduction on account of equality or similarity is 
called direct; that on account of simultaneity, indirect, or 



HE PRODUCTION OF CONCEPTS. 83 

mediate, — the latter because another reproduction, that of 
the assisting concepts, is presupposed. 

The recognition of a person or thing, 1 ) every spontaneous 
remembrance of anything is an act of immediate, or direct, 
reproduction. The awakening of concepts by means of signs 
which have no similarity to the thing signified, but which are 
only related to them through simultaneity, as well as the 
association of concepts on the ground of juxtaposition in 
space or succession in time, rests upon mediate or indirect 
reproduction. 

Remark 1. — The two kinds of reproduction form an opposition, 
and in the development of the life of the soul often invade each 
other. Direct or immediate reproduction unites the similar in kind, 
however separate in consciousness the elements may be, so far as 
time is concerned; indirect, or mediate reproduction unites the simul- 
taneous, however unlike in content the elements may appear; the 
former is the logical, the latter the mechanical factor of the flow of 
representation. Direct or logical reproduction prevails in scientific 
treatment, in thoughtful reflection, and also in the free movement of 
fancy and the creations of genius; the indirect, or mechanical, in 
intensified discourse and in all habitual affairs. Upon the former rest 
spontaneous thought and the creations of genius; upon the latter 
depend all rote learning, and the readiness of the well schooled head. 



1) When a child sees an object for the second, third, or fourth 
time, it recognizes this object as that which it has already seen one or 
more times. In this way the earlier, obscure concept of this thing is 
reproduced through a new perception of it. So the eye, glancing rest- 
lessly about among a number of strange people, is suddenly fixed upon 
the features of an acquaintance whom we have recognized as such. 
But not alone the former concept of this acquaintance is reproduced 
by the new sight of him; this concept brings with it a whole group 
of other concepts which were associated with it by means of simul- 
taneity. We not only recognize our old acquaintance, but we remem- 
ber also the circumstances under which we saw him for the first time; 
as, for instance, the place where he was, who accompanied him, his 
actions, etc. The reproduction of former concepts through repeated 
perceptions of an object strengthens them. Were there no reproduc- 
tion, the everyday things about us would always seem new and strange; 
we should never be able to get our bearings in the external world. 



84 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

Remark 2. — The relief from arrest which is the cause of the free 
mounting of the obscured concepts, may also be brought about by 
physiological causes, as in sleep in the form of dreams. Sleep itself 
exercises an arrest upon our whole consciousness, proceeding from 
what may be called the sleep-sensation, or from alienated vital sensa- 
tion arising from the weariness of the muscle and nerve systems; by 
this means all the concepts of the waking soul life, and consequently 
all our troubles and cares, are swept away, and sleep approaches us 
nightly, as a liberator. Upon waking, the arrest caused by the sleep- 
sensation departs, and the concepts mount freely from the depths of 
consciousness, but without connecting precisely to the trains of 
thought of the previous evening, so that every day forms, in a meas- 
ure, its own psychical whole — a most beneficent arrangement. 

Remark 3. — The fusion of the simultaneous increases in com- 
pleteness and stability when repetition is added. Therefore those con- 
cept structures are particularly strong, in which the meeting of con- 
cepts in consciousness is not accidental, but in which they are rooted 
to one another in certain constant relations to things, as in sense-per- 
ceptions, or where they are fixed by long use, as in the connection 
between the forms of speech and their corresponding general con- 
ceptions. On the other hand, connections of concepts can be fixed in 
consciousness by means of continual practice, which appear from 
their fixedness as the expression of a naturally given and objective 
state of facts, although they may be nothing but subjective concep- 
tions, and not unfrequently even mere idiosyncrasies. This explains 
the confounding of convenience with morality, of what is fashionably 
pleasing with what is truly beautiful, of mere time succession with 
causality (post hoe, ergo propter hoc) , as well as the various forms of 
superstition (significance of dreams, and the like). 



I 31. SPECIAL LAWS OF REPRODUCTION. 

All reproduction of concepts may be reduced to the two 
processes of direct and indirect reproduction. Yet, since 
the time of Aristotle, four specific laws of reproduction have 
been distinguished, viz: 



SPECIAL LAWS OF REPRODUCTION. 85 



(Fig. 4.) 

,0 



1. The Law of Similarity. It reads, " Similar concepts 
reproduce one another. " Similar concepts, however, are such 
as are partially alike; as, A B and AC. If A B comes into 
consciousness the A of the compound concept A C is called 
into consciousness through direct reproduction, but C is in- 
directly called into consciousness through A. Thus, a por- 
trait recalls the original. Upon this law depends the force 
of the metaphor, the allegory, the parable. 

2. The Law of Contrast. It reads, " Contrasted con- 
cepts reciprocally reproduce one another." Contrasted con- 
cepts are such as are both similar and opposed, and in which 
the opposition exceeds the similarity. 

Contrast is only a specific case of similarity. What alone 
is peculiar here is the reciprocal "illumination" of the con- 
trast, which rests upon the fact that a concept which is rein- 
forced by its " helps," rises clearer into consciousness, the 
more its opposing concept seeks to reduce its degree of clear- 
ness. Thus, a beggar appears the poorer when he is con- 
trasted with a Croesus; a sharper is more distinctly charac- 
terized when he is called a man of honor, or the usurer when 
he is declared to be a spendthrift. Among a hundred things 
which we possess, that appears momentarily the most valuable 
which we must give up; as, a mother will declare that one of 
her children the dearest which was to be immediately torn 
from her by 4eath. Many effects in art depend upon the 



86 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

uniting of contrasts; e. g., the disposition of light and shade 
in the union of colors in painting, the alternation of the trag- 
ical and the comical in the drama (Shakspeare), the cauteriz- 
ing effect of irony in contrast to sarcasm and to euphemism. 

3. The Law of Simultaneity. It reads, "Concepts 
which were simultaneously in consciousness reproduce one 
another. " They do this by indirect, or mediate reproduction, 
because they are parts of total or composite concepts. In 
accordance with this law we unite in our thoughts what 
nature has united in the form of juxtaposition in space, or of 
succession in time. This is the opposite of the process which 
unites according to similarity. In the latter case, we put 
that together in thought which "logically" belongs together 
on account of relation in content, no matter whether it ap- 
pears united according to space and time or not; in uniting 
according to simultaneity we put that together which acci- 
dentally comes together in space and time, without concern- 
ing ourselves whether according to content it really belongs 
together or not. It is easy to see that similarity leads to the 
logical, and simultaneity to the more mechanical connection 
of our concepts. 

4. The Law of Succession. It reads, "Concepts which 
appear successively in consciousness reproduce one another in 
the original order. " This law may be reduced to the former, 
for concepts which succeed one another in consciousness 
always remain an instant there together and hence reproduce 
one another. We shall consider this law more fully further on. 

The uniting of concepts in accordance with the four laws 
of reproduction is called The Association of Ideas. 

I 32. REPRODUCTION OF THE SERIES. 

Fusion, or cohesion, affects not only the concepts which 
are simultaneous, but also those which follow one another, 



REPRODUCTION OF THE SERIES. 87 

and gives rise thereby to the series (succession). When the 
concept A immediately follows B, they are for a moment 
simultaneously in consciousness, only A is diminishing in 
intensity, whereas B is increasing, therefore not the full 
intensity of A but only the remainder of intensity, a, unites 
with the full intensity of B. 

This observation may be extended to a whole series of 

concepts, A, B, C, D If the succession is rapid enough, 

the succeeding concepts, B, C, D ,will still meet in con- 
sciousness with certain decreasing remnants of the intensity, 

a, a 15 a 2 , a 3 of the sinking A, and will fuse with them. 

The same holds regarding remnants of B, which fuse with all 

following concepts in decreasing intensity, b, b 15 b 2 , b 3 

When B entered consciousness, A was reduced to the rem- 
nant a; as C entered, A was reduced to the smaller remnant 
a 1? and B to the remnant b; as D entered, A was reduced to 
remnant a 2 , B to b l5 C to c, etc. We arrive, therefore, at the 
following scheme of fusions for the successive instants of 

time, in which the single concepts, A, B, C ,have reached 

their highest degree of clearness: — 

1. A 



whereby: a > a x > a 2 > a 3 
b > bj > b 2 > b 3 
c > c t > c 2 



2. 


aB 


3. 


a,bC 


4. 


ajb,cD 


5. 


a 3 b 8 c, d E 



In reproduction the individual concepts become helps to 
others only in so far as they are fused with them (§ 29). 
When a concept, A, in decreasing remnants of intensity, a, 

a 13 a 2 , a 3 is fused with other concepts, B, C, D, E, it 

will indeed reproduce all these later concepts, but with un- 
equal rapidity, for the mounting of a reproduced concept 
depends upon the amount of help, so far as its rhythm, or 



88 



EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 



time of movement, is concerned. 1 ) B, therefore, will first 
appear in consciousness, then, C, and then somewhat later, D, 
and reach its highest degree of clearness; i. e., the series will 
develop. In this way the concepts appear gradually above 
the threshold, reach their highest stage in consciousness, and 
then sink back again towards the threshold. The following 
scheme represents to the eye the status of the concepts in the 
instant when A has passed through all its phases (here nine), 
and the member E stands highest; i. e., the series has 
developed to E. 

(Fig. 5.) 




The members of the series from A to E are sinking; i. e., 
losing intensity; whereas those from E to I are rising; i. e., 
increasing in intensity. In the next instant F reaches the 
summit (E O), at a later instant, G-, etc. 

From these considerations arise the following laws of 
reproduction for the series: 

1. The beginning member of the series (A) reproduces 
the next following members successively in the order in which 
the series was originally conceived, and strives to raise each 
concept to its full original degree of clearness; — the former, 
because it is fused with all the succeeding concepts in accord- 
ance with decreasing remnants of intensity, — the latter, be- 

1) This principle, which is here only casually introduced, is 
strictly proved by Herbart upon the basis of calculation. Psychology 
as a Science, I. $ 86-88. 



REPRODUCTION OF THE SERIES. 89 

cause these decreasing remnants are fused with the full inten- 
sity of all following members, as is illustrated in the scheme. 

2. The last member of the series (E) reproduces the 
members which have preceded it simultaneously, but with 
decreasing degrees of clearness, because, with the decreasing 
remnants of intensity (d, c 15 b 2 ) of the preceding members 
(D, C, B), it is united with its full intensity into a composite, 
or total concept (E d c x b 2 a 3 ). The concepts here form a coil, 
which under certain circumstances may unfold into a series. 

3. An intermediate member of the series is to be regarded 
as a final member for the members which have preceded, and 
as a beginning member for those which follow it; it therefore 
reproduces simultaneously the members which precede it, and 
successively those lohich follow. 

The power of the series to unfold needs perhaps to be a 
little more clearly explained. The energy of its regular devel- 
opment depends upon the cohesion among members; this is 
again conditioned by the number of the members with which 
any member of the series, e. g. , A, by means of its decreasing 
remnants of intensity unites. Since these remnants continu- 
ally become less, one of which must consequently become 
zero (in the Figure a 3 ), the number of members which these 
remnants unite with A must be a finite and comparatively 
small one. In long series, the reproduction of the members 
is no longer governed by the beginning member, but is trans- 
mitted in a wave-like manner to the end, by the intermediate 
members of the series. 

Remark 1. — The succession of concepts in the series form, rests 
upon the nniform decrease of the remnants with which one member, 
A, is fused with the next following, and which arise of themselves at 
the successive conceptions. But fusion according to regularly decreas- 
ing remnants may be brought about in simultaneous reception of a 
number of concepts by decreasing grades of opposition. It is known, 
e. g., that the various color qualities, the temperatures, the degrees of 



90 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 






hardness, etc., evolve for our conception in series according to degrees 
of opposition, although they are, perhaps, never actually perceived 
in such series. The sensations of smell and taste, with which decreas- 
ing degrees of opposition are not so general, furnish no series, or only 
iragmentary ones. 

Remark 2. — The capacity of a series for evolution is essentially 
connected with the opposition of the members. Should this fall 
away; i. e., were the members of the series nearly alike, the de- 
creasing series of remnants of a member, e. g., A, would not be 
brought about by the following members, but only in consequence 
of duration by remote concepts; i. e., would be only imperfectly 
carried out; and since the rhythm in the running off of the series 
depends upon this graduated decrease in the remnants, the whole 
series would be almost instantly reproduced; i. e., it would not arrive 
at evolution. These considerations are supported by experience; a 
row of trees, of similar houses, of uniformed men, does not easily 
arrive at evolution in reproduction. 



$ 33. SIGNIFICANCE OF THE SERIES FORM. 

Since time is the universal form of mental life, concepts 
take on the form of the series as an expression of the develop- 
ment of the life of the soul. In this way the series becomes 
an archetype of our concept-life, which in reality consists 
only of simultaneities and series. 

But the phenomenon of the series form may in various 
cases exhibit the following peculiar complications: 

1. When several series differing in height, or intensity, 
pass at the same time through consciousness, so that their 
equally numerous members unite, either through complica- 
tion or through fusion. In this way, series of touch and 
muscular sensations unite with sensations of sight, when 
spatial relations are considered; so that which is seen in a 
drama unites with that which is heard into a succession of 
scenes; so the school boy cons his lesson aloud, that what 
is seen and heard may combine with what is thought. Here 



SIGNIFICANCE OF THE SERIES FORM. 91 

the individual members form compact unities, because they 
arise from the combination of the different in kind. Less 
intimate is the union between members which results from 
the f tesion of what are like in kind; as, for example, where one 
person seeks to play several games of chess at the same time. 

2. When the members of a main series are the beginning 
points for minor series, which either mediate the transition 
between two successive members of the chief series by inter- 
polation, or which extend, as it were, in a direction perpen- 
dicular to that of the main series. The succession of historical 
facts is an example of the first case, when between the epochs 
of the world's history the special facts are interpolated one 
by one; history may also furnish us an example of the second 
case, when the chronological order of events branches off at 
points into synchronological lines. 

3. When several series of concepts cross in a common mem- 
ber, whereby the chief series falters, because it tends to 
extend in each of the minor series, while the preceding mem- 
bers of these latter come cumulatively into consciousness, so 
that there arises about this common member a struggle and 
fluctuation of the concepts. This confusion is only overcome 
when some one of the many crossing series receives assist- 
ance, thereby having the course of the reproduction deter- 
mined in its direction. Thus, a narrator may pass from one 
narration into another, and the occurrence of some insignifi- 
cant idea often determines the direction of our flow of repre- 
sentation when it is left to itself. This falling together, or 
confusion of several crossing series may be avoided, if between 
corresponding members of any two such series cross series of 
a determinate length be formed, whereby a combination of 
series in a web-like form arises. A series-web is a system of 
crossed series whose members are held apart by means 
of cross series. The most perfect series-web is the concept 
of space, extending in three directions. 



92 



EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 



4. When a series, A B H J, is conceived not only in 

its original but also in the reverse direction, J H B A. 

(Compare the Fig. in I 32.) In this case the reproduction of 
the two terminal members, A and J, occurs at the same time, 
and the two approaching series interpenetrate so that the 
successive rise and fall of the concepts passes over into a 
simultaneous heaving and sinking, in the same way in which 
sound waves neutralize each other by interference. All 
notion of space rests upon this sort of series complication. U 

(Fig. 6.) 



mY v. 


jl 


) 


/ 


\p 


h 




v 


4 


7 

227 

il 


t \> 


/vV 













V 






" 


\ 



1) The series complications arising from a double-sided appre- 
hension, after the analogy of interrupted sound waves, are most 
remarkable. In a single-sided apprehension of the series A B C D E 
F, the members ABC must sink if the members DEF rise; in a 
double-sided apprehension where the series runs off from A to F and 
from F to A at the same time, ABC and DEF should rise and sink 
at the same time, precisely like the particles which lie between the 
points of condensation in the interrupted sound waves. This signi- 
fies in the case of the concepts only so much — that the running off of 
the series in one direction, with the successive rising and sinking of 
the members which follow one after the other is brought to a stand- 
still, and has yielded to a state of reciprocal tension of the con- 
cepts. The paradoxical demand that all concepts, A B C D E F, 
regardless of their opposition, should simultaneously increase in 
intensity, will scarcely be found true in reality. The consequence 
will rather be that the concepts will be found in a gentle and con- 
stant vibration, which assumes the character of a stand-still because 
of the like movement from A to F, and from F to A. 



SIGNIFICANCE OF THE SERIES FORM. 93 

Since the equipoise is complete, a pendulum-like vibra- 
tion of the whole system takes place from right to left, which 
may be read off on the curve m p, and whereby the axis O E 
assumes the positions O F and O D. 

5. When bodily movements run parallel with the members 
of a series. Here, for instance, belong the movements of the 
organs of speech in the reproduction of poems or of forms of 
prayer, the movements of the feet upon listening to rhyth- 
mical music, and all of those series of concepts and movements 
which have grown familiar to us through frequent repetition, 
and upon which skill and habit rest. These series run off 
mechanically without any mediation of thought and reflection 
(man as an automaton. Compare 2 35). 

Remark 1. — The uniting of concepts in the series form is of the 
highest importance for the development of the life of the soul. What 
was formerly isolated and scattered is by this means brought into 
fixed relations; each individual concept finds its place in a higher, 
well-ordered whole where reproduction can reach itr. Thus we find 
our way not only among a multitude of objects, as, for example, the 
manifoldness presented by a great building, such as an exhibition hall, 
by a large park, or a landscape, that is to say, in spatial relations; 
but also in those complicated masses of notions out of which a science 
is built; i. e., in logical relations. 1) Since on account of the concen- 
tration of consciousness (§ 20) we are able to survey but a limited num- 
ber of concepts at one time. The mastery of the wide territory of con- 
cepts which form the potential consciousness is only possible when 
the concepts are brought into well united series, so that we can easily 
reach the remotest point of a series structure through the stimulus 
of a beginning member without being disturbed by the concepts 
which press in from all sides. Where on the contrary, on account of 
a stereotyped running off of the series, a fixed and unbending divi- 
sion of the concept structure is never broken up by new combinations 



1) "The placing of the isolated in the series form always holds 
as the first rule of mnemonics, and in general as a chief means in the 
economy of mental life. That which remains isolated — numbers, 
names, detached notes — is soon forgotten, and is tost for our inner 
development" (Volkmann). 



94 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

formed by means of free-mounting concepts, there appears that stiff 
pedantry which we not seldom see in aged people, in copyists and 
slaves of habit, in school-men, and in phlegmatic people, and which 
forms a striking contrast to the free mental activity in women, chil- 
dren, and artists. 

Remark 2. — By means of the series complex, violent struggle for 
reproduction is replaced by a quiet activity of the concepts, since the 
reproduction proceeds quietly now in this, now in that prescribed 
course through the concept complex. Through the agency of the 
nodes, towards which the series converge, consciousness receives its 
peculiar and permanent impress; fcr, by them a kind of centraliza- 
tion of the whole circle of thought is introduced. Within these 
nodes are situated the favorite notions, inclinations, and passions of 
men. The nodes have themselves a further concentration, because 
from them converge dominating series of concepts and higher middle 
points. The chief central point of the whole is that in which the I, 
or ego, has its seat. It remains only to remark that neither the sub- 
ordinate nodes nor the chief central points have fixed positions, but 
are subject to many removals and fluctuations. 



| 34. REPRODUCTIONS AND SENSATIONS. 

The fact of reproduction leads to the assumption of the 
continued existence of concepts, even after they have been 
obscured. The reproduced concept is, therefore, identical 
with the original; i. e., with the sensation. Nevertheless, it 
is a universally known fact, that in every particular case we 
can tell with unerring certainty whether a concept is a sen- 
sation or a mere reproduction. This decision can not, at least 
in the simple sensations, relate to their content, since the 
simple sensation is reproduced as it is or not at all. As 
regards intensity, a reproduction is indeed always weaker 
than the sensation; yet the distinguishing characteristic 
between the two can not lie even in this, for we can very 
well distinguish the gentlest sensation from the strongest 
reproduction. 



REPRODUCTIONS AND SENSATIONS. 95 

But since this distinguishing characteristic lies neither 
in the content nor the strength of the concept, it can lie only 
in certain accompanying mental states which attach to the 
immediate sensation, but are lacking in the reproduction. 
These are the numerous but weak physical sensations by 
means of which the apprehension of the organs of sense in 
the moment of immediate sensation is announced to con- 
sciousness, and which consist in muscular sensations and 
their irradiation (I 16). This is indeed a reproduction of 
these accompanying muscular sensations, but under the most 
unfavorable circumstances. Since, individually, they are very 
weak and in their totality only produce an obscure general 
effect; and, further, since they find in the body-sensations 
which are present a strong and almost insurmountable oppo- 
sition, they can not in reproduction be elevated into any 
noticeable degree of clearness. This peculiar coloring which 
the sensation receives from the accompanying muscular sen- 
sations may be called the liveliness of the sensation. In 
reproduction this liveliness is generally lost. 1 ) 

In certain cases, however, it may occur that in the repro- 
duction of a sensation with the accompanying muscular sen- 
sations the original liveliness appears and the reproduction 
is mistaken for the sensation. This is regularly the case in 
the reproductions of the dream, where consciousness is freed 
from opposing concepts by the physiological depression, and 
single reproduced concepts on this account can rise to the 
height of their original intensity. It therefore happens that 
in dreams we see and hear, whereas in waking consciousness 
we merely represent. 



1) This loss of liveliness may go so far that the reproduced pic- 
tures of sight entirely lose their coloring and come into consciousness 
as mere outlines. Lotze holds remembered images to be entirely 
colorless; likewise, also, Fechner, who cites the experiences of various 
persons in this respect. Psycho-Physics, II., chap. 42. 



96 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

All hallucinations rest upon the confounding of the repro- 
duction with the sensation of the waking consciousness. 
Since we project our sensations outwardly as perceptions, 
things are by hallucination apparently perceived as present 
which are not present; consequently hallucinations of this 
kind, if they become habitual, always lead to serious disturb- 
ance of the mental life, and stand in close relation to mental 
diseases. 

Remark 1. — Hallucinations which appear as sense images are to 
be distinguished from illusions of the senses. ' In the first the sense- 
impression is entirely lacking; in the latter it is present, but falsely 
interpreted, as if, e. g., one should mistake a hollow willow for a 
ghost, or see in the shadows of the moon, an elfin dance. He who 
suffers from hallucinations may perceive such things without the 
slightest sense-impression. This kind of people see sparks and fiery 
streaks before their eyes, they hear muffled, confused sounds, which 
seem now like the thunder of cannon, now like the distant ringing of 
bells. In later stages, where the representative faculty is seriously 
attacked, these indistinct impressions begin to take form, being deter- 
mined by the momentary condition of the mind. The victim of mel- 
ancholy then sees gloomy figures, frightful faces, devilish forms; he 
hears the voices of his pursuers, now in soft whispers, now in loud 
tones, as they conspire to kill him or to bring all imaginable torments 
upon him; about him is the odor of blood and corpses; in his mouth 
he feels the taste of deadly poisons. The insane person, on the con- 
trary, is often surrounded by the most charming of pictures. Splendid 
phenomena linger before his eyes and translate him into a blessed 
entrancement, divine voices promise him happiness, honor, and riches 
(Eicker, Mental Disturbances). Hallucinations are not always indi- 
cative of real mental diseases; they arise temporarily with persons 
who are mentally sound, in consequence of continuous mental excite- 
ment, prolonged fasting, or violent emotions; they may even be arti- 
ficially produced by means of a certain kind of skill, and then they 
assume the forms of visions and ecstatic delights. For example, the 
sight illusions of the learned Nikolai, who for days and weeks saw 
all sorts of forms before him, are well known. 

Remark 2. — The sensation of physical excitation of the organs 
varies in liveliness with the different senses. The activity is greatest 



REPRODUCTION OF MOVEMENTS. 97 

in the muscular sensations themselves, for which therefore under nor- 
mal conditions there is a very imperfect reproduction. The youth 
can no longer reproduce the vital sensation of the child, nor can the 
person in health reproduce the sensations of sickness, and nothing is 
so easily forgotten as bodily pain and physical pleasure, however 
intense they may have originally been. The remembrance of the 
most intense bodily pain is something exceedingly small in comparison 
with the prick of a pin (Lotze); naturally so, for the intensity of the 
pain is connected with the effect of numberless elements of sensation, 
which in themselves considered are weak, and which are difficult to 
reproduce. The further one goes in the series of senses from the 
lower to the higher, the more secondary becomes the consciousness of 
the excitation of the organs, and it disappears almost entirely with 
the highest sense, the eye. This is shown by the entire lack of tone 
in the sensation of sight. It is for this reason that the confounding 
of reproduction with sensation is easiest in the sense of sight, and 
that hallucinations of an optical nature, i. e., visions, are most com- 
mon. The sense of touch, on the contrary, seems almost closed to 
hallucinations. 



I 35. REPRODUCTION OF MOVEMENTS. 

While the body of the animal, especially of the lower 
orders, appears like a machine, capable of motions of a single 
kind only, the human body is an apparatus of motion which 
under the influence of continued exercise can be made apt in 
the production of motions of the most various kinds. The 
body of the spider is an apparatus for spinning, that of the 
fish for swimming, and just as little continuous practice is 
needed with the one as with the other to make them skillful in 
their peculiar arts; for the apparatus works of itself like a 
machine, as soon as it is placed in the sphere for which it was 
designed. 

It is otherwise with the child. The child is far more 
unskillful and helpless than the young of the animal; the 
simplest movements of seizing with the hand or walking with 
the feet must be patiently taught to the infant. 



98 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

On this account it possesses the capacity of being made 
apt in movements and arts of the greatest variety. The 
foot of the infant, which kicks regardless of rule, can be 
schooled for the graceful movements of the dance, of the 
gymnast, or of the performer upon the tight rope; the 
^and, which is incapable of grasping an apple, will perhaps 
guide the pen, the chisel, the brush, or the bow of the vio- 
lin, with wonderful skill. This would be impossible were 
the apparatus of motion in the human body not a universal 
instrument. 

This apparatus consists first of muscles, which are 
stretched over the joints of the skeleton, and by their con- 
traction execute the movements; and then of the motor 
nerves, which excite the muscles to contraction. 

The actual contraction of the muscles is, however, a 
change of the muscular condition, which is announced to 
consciousness by the muscular sensations. To the different 
kinds of motions there correspond as many different kinds of 
muscular sensations. We distinguish the movements of the 
right arm from those of the left, because the respective mus- 
cular sensations are different. 

Since there are many muscles in our body, and since the 
degree of tension is constantly changing, we have at each 
instant of our existence innumerable muscular sensations, 
which unite into an obscure total sensation, the sensation of 
the carriage or attitude of our body. 

By means of muscular sensations we learn gradually to 
execute the movements of our body according to design; i. e. , 
in the manner which we desire, and thereby learn to govern 
the body. This comes in the course of continuous attempts. 
The muscular sensation corresponding to the desired move- 
ment is reproduced in consequence of these attempts, after 
which the nerve stimulus associated with it and the muscular 
contraction follow. 



MEMORY. 99 

If a given movement has occurred two or more times, 
the muscular sensation becomes associated with the move- 
ment itself, and therefore secures the reproduction of the 
movement by means of the muscular sensation. 

In this way muscular sensations become aids for the 
reproduction of movements. A wonderful activity of mem- 
ory is shown in retaining these helps to reproduction, on 
account of their great extent. 

Remark — As in the association of concepts, the certainty of repro- 
duction in^the connection of muscular sensations with movements, 
depends upon intimacy of the fusion, which in turn depends upon 
the frequency of repetition of movements in one and the same sense. 
By means of constant practice and continued repetition, man acquires 
complete skill in various callings and arts, and the respective 
movements proceed entirely automatically, without the aid of mental 
activity. They occur also in sleep (somnambulism). 



I 36. MEMORY, 

That concepts are not destroyed by obscuration, or pass- 
ing out of consciousness, is proved by the fact of reproduc- 
tion. But not every reproduction is for this reason an act 
of memory. We expect of memory that it will hold what 
was formerly in consciousness, though displaced, and, upon 
given occasion, reproduce it exactly as it was originally. 
Memory is therefore the faculty of unaltered reproduction, and 
its characteristic quality is trustworthiness. 

The trustworthiness of memory will manifest itself in 
holding firmly what was formerly simultaneously or succes- 
sively in the mind; i. e. , in the unaltered reproduction of series 
and groups of concepts. This holding of the concepts together 
in their original combinations is so much the more assured the 
clearer the concepts were when they entered into those com- 
binations. The trustworthiness of memory depends, there- 



100 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

fore, upon the strength or clearness of the original appre- 
hension, and upon the frequency of repetition. 

As to the first condition, it is important whether the 
associated concepts were mounting or sinking when the total 
concept under consideration was formed, because upon this, 
and the length of time they were in consciousness together, 
depends the thoroughness of their fusion. Fleeting associa- 
tions of concepts which are sinking out of consciousness drop 
from memory, whereas the associations of concepts which are 
intensified by attention hold together intimately. The inti- 
macy of fusion is furthered by repetition, since the concept 
magnitudes with which the concepts fuse become greater 
with each repetition. (Eepetitio mater studiorum. ) 

In addition to trustworthiness, the perfection of mem- 
ory depends also upon durability, which is equivalent to 
trustworthiness for a length of time; then upon readiness, 
comprehension, and utility. These three words may be 
examined. 

The length of time during which a concept is held in 
memory depends upon the number and strength of its asso- 
ciated concepts, or helps. There is no surer means of secur- 
ing concepts against forgetfulness than to place them in 
connection with important concepts, which through their 
many-sided and intimate complications form the node points 
of our concept structure. Even insignificant incidents become 
impressed on memory when they stand in connection with 
concept masses of this sort. 

The facility of memory depends upon the degree and 
mobility of the attention, as well as in general upon that 
freshness of apprehension which is partially connected with 
physiological conditions. 

The comprehension and utility of memory, aside from 
what has been mentioned, depend upon the harmonious con- 
struction of consciousness, and therefore upon the reinforce- 



KINDS OF MEMORY. 101 

ment of the memory from the side of the understanding and 
the imagination. 

Memory is, for the rest, not an independent and real 
faculty of the soul, but only an abstract notion for the man- 
ner in which the reproduction of concepts is, under given 
circumstances, brought to pass. 

Remark 1. — The opposite of the memorizing activity is forget- 
fulness. It consists in the inability to reproduce a concept which has 
been in consciousness; this inability is, however, only relative and 
transitory, for it rests upon unconsciousness, or upon the lack of 
effectual helps to reproduction when compared with the number and 
strength of opposing concepts. If the latter can in any way be over- 
come, those helps will be strong enough to reproduce the given con- 
cept. One may, therefore, say of a concept, it is never absolutely 
forgotten, just as one may say of a ring which has been thrown into 
the sea, it is not absolutely lost. Even if the restoration — there of 
the concept, here of the ring — is difficult, it is not impossible. In 
sleep, where the opposing concepts of the waking life are removed, 
such "forgotten concepts" often appear with extraordinary clearness; 
so also in the condition of clairvoyance, and in the moment of death. 
Still more favorable will the chances become for the reproduction of 
many a forgotten concept after the death of the body. 

Remark 2. — Since memory produces nothing new, but only the 
old as it has been preserved, it is not surprising that productive spirits 
and geniuses, whose activity is directed to the discovery of the new, 
should often manifest weak memories. With them understanding 
and imagination injure the memory. On the other hand, it is com- 
mon to find men with weak judgment who have faithful memories. 
In childhood, however, a good memory may be taken as an indication 
of good mental gifts. 



? 37. KINDS OF MEMORY. 

Memory is in its nature mechanical; for, in the final 
analysis, all noting and retaining rest upon a mechanical 
association of concepts, which is independent of the content 
of that which is to be retained. One can impress things 



102 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

upon the memory from whose understanding one is far 
removed; as, e. g., is the case with unmeaning "learning by 
heart," where the learner does not trouble himself about the 
inner connection of what is learned. The soul of mechanical 
memory is not understanding, but repetition. Such a mem- 
ory is true and enduring, but not serviceable enough, since it 
not seldom refuses to act on occasion of the slightest misplace- 
ment of the matter memorized. (Questioning in recitation.) 

It is a fact that understanding, as insight into the inner 
connection of the matter memorized, greatly facilitates the 
memorizing. This can probably only take place where such 
an understanding is made possible by an inner, material con- 
nection of the parts of that which is to be memorized. Here 
is added to the external association through mediate repro- 
duction (simultaneity and succession), the inner association 
through immediate reproduction (sameness and similarity in 
kind), the latter being more intimate and lasting in the degree 
that it is conditioned, not by the changes of association, but 
by the permanently remaining internal relations of the con- 
tent. In this way, we note a mathematical proof, or grasp 
cause and effect in history, or understand change in the 
course of natural phenomena. Since to understand is a 
matter of the understanding, or judgment (judicium), we find 
here a connection between memory and understanding, or 
judgment, and this kind of memory is called, accordingly, the 
judicial memory. It is distinguished for its serviceability. 

There is, finally, another kind of memory, which seeks, 
after the manner of the judicial memory, to discover an inner 
necessary relation between the objects to be noted where 
the connection is purely accidental. To this end ingenuity 
is above all necessary, in so far as this is the capacity of dis- 
covering similarity between dissimilar things. When A and 
B ("mens" and " understanding") are two dissimilar con- 
cepts (words), we may attempt by means of a third concept 



KINDS OF MEMORY. 103 

C ("man"), which may be brought into relation with A as 
well as with B, to unite intimately these two concepts. This 
kind of memory, which needs the assistance of the imagina- 
tion, is called ingenious memory. It is distinguished by its 
great compass, rising to an art in mnemonics, but also by its 
lack of readiness. 

Remark 1. — These three varieties of memory were first distin- 
guished by Kant. In common life we distinguish, moreover, a word and 
thing memory, a memory for persons, numbers, colors, locality, etc., to 
which may be added a memory for the qualities of wine and tea (wine 
and tea tasters), and other similar special memories. These distinc- 
tions, far from answering to real faculties of the soul, express only 
the simple fact that memory maintains a specific perfection and a 
single direction in accordance with thorough training in a favored 
and one-sided compass of thought. 

Remark 2. — The ingenious memory becomes mnemonics when 
these artificial links which serve to bind the memorized matter 
together are arranged according to fixed rule. Since between a notion 
and a number there is no natural connection (Napoleon I. could just 
as well have been born in 1770 as in 1769), mnemonics resorts especi- 
ally to numbers in its application. Modern mnemonics, founded by 
Otto Reventlow, and further developed by Hermann Kothe, changes 
numbers into words and notions by a scheme which is very easily 
retained (1 = t, d; 2 = n; 3 = m; 4 = r, q; 5 = s, sch; 6 = b, p; 7 = 
f, v; 8 = h, ch; 9 = g, k; = 1, z; vowels having no significance). 
The year of the death of Charlemagne (814) is no longer expressed 
by the old symbolic significance of the number of this year (hour- 
glass, spear, and plow, as death, war, peace, and in accordance with 
the resemblances in the figures 8, 1, and 4) but by the word "Huter" 
(protector) in the sense of the foregoing scheme, which is easily asso- 
ciated with Charlemagne (protector — "Huter" — and increaser of the 
empire). When the artificial links (the mnemonic catch words) are 
not too far-fetched, so that they will easily occur to the mind (which 
is not the case with Mauerberger's arrangement of the dates in gen- 
eral history), mnemonics renders a very considerable service in the 
remembrance of numbers in history, geography, statistics, physics, 
and would seem to deserve greater regard from the side of the school 
than has heretofore been accorded to it. 



104 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY, 

Animals also have memory. The dog recognizes his master evi- 
dently because he has noted him. The memory of animals is devel- 
oped, however, mostly in a one-sided manner. The dog shows chiefly 
a good memory for persons; other animals, as, for example, the migra- 
tory birds, are distinguished by their memory for locality. 



I 38. THE COURSE OF DEVELOPMENT IN MEMORY. 

Memory is the foundation for all mental development, 
because it unites into a whole the successive elements of our 
mental life, which would otherwise stand unrelated. By 
means of memory any given present of soul life is brought 
into contact with the whole past, touching it on all sides and 
entering into reciprocal relation with it. Without memory 
our whole mental life would be enclosed in the narrow circle 
of thought which the single moment brings with it, as we 
perceive to be mostly the case with animals, whose reflection 
and effort to do extends but very little beyond the circle of 
sensations offered by the senses at any given moment. 

But memory manifests a course of development through 
the various stages in the life of man which is worthy of 
thought. The activity is most gigantic in childhood, where 
the matter for all following mental development is garnered 
up by the memory in enormous quantity. In the first three 
to five years, the child learns to govern his own body by the 
memory-like retention of muscular sensations (? 18), learns to 
find his way about in his environment, to know numberless 
things, together with their various qualities, and to arrange 
them in groups and series; he acquires the essential features 
of the grammar and vocabulary of his mother tongue. One 
may indeed say with Jean Paul: < < Man learns more in the first 
three years of childhood than in the three years of college life. " 

This astonishing energy of the memory holds also in the 
later years of childhood, and enables the child to learn easily 



COURSE OF DEVELOPMENT IN MEMORY. 105 

a second or a third language, to hold names and dates, and 
to accommodate his body to various arts. Childhood is the 
period of rule for the mechanical memory, where the child 
takes on gladly everything which is offered without asking 
about the "how," or the "why." 

With the close of childhood, in the twelfth year, the 
orbis pieties of the man's world of observation, except cer- 
tain additions reserved for a later age, is closed and laid 
down in memory; the grammar and vocabulary of the mother 
tongue are learned, the child is at home in his environment. 
Colors, tones, names, numbers, persons, and things — all are 
written upon the tablets of the memory. 

In youth the material of memory experiences but little 
enriching in regard to its elements, the sense perceptions, 
but the more significant, however, are the combinations of 
this matter into new structures, on whose extension under- 
standing and imagination are coactive with memory. The 
youth passes his years in an environment whose physical 
features are already known, and which presents to him but 
few new impressions; the further instruction which is given 
him is mostly based upon the observation of the well known 
twenty-six letters of the alphabet and upon the sounds of the 
familiar tones of the mother tongue; but with the aid of these 
letters and tones he is led into the phases of the world's 
history, and into the phenomena of natural history, into nat- 
ural and other sciences. 

Memory is still more stationary in the age of manhood. 
The gathering time is past, the period for the free applica- 
tion in independent judgments and conclusions of what was 
formerly gathered is at hand. In middle age one learns a 
new language only with very great difficulty, retains names 
and numbers only with much labor. The decline of memory 
in this period is connected with the decreasing receptivity 
and sensitiveness of the nervous system, so that in part the 



106 



EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 



long past impressions of childhood even now make them- 
selves felt with greater vividness than the newly gained per- 
ceptions of this period. 

In old age the activity of memory shows a rapid decline. 
The old is forgotten, the new is not retained. Only the most 
important events, only the concepts most frequently in con- 
sciousness emerge like islands out of the universal flood of 
forgetfulness. It is also true that the very aged man remem- 
bers the events of his childhood more vividly than those 
which lie only a year or two behind him. 

These relations may be presented to the eye by the fol- 
lowing scheme: 

(Fig. 7.) 

1 V, 




IDEAL COURSE OF THE DEVELOPMENT OF MEMORY. 



\ 39. THE IMAGINATION. 

In mental activity it often happens that concepts from 
different periods of time are, by means of mediate and im- 
mediate reproduction, associated in a variegated manner, so 
that the resulting combinations no longer bear the character 
of a reproduction of the old, but of a production of the new. 
We can no longer ascribe this concept activity to the mem- 
ory, but must rather ascribe it to the imagination, to the 
capacity for altered reproduction. 



THE IMAGINATION. 107 

That which was a fault with memory, becomes a virtue 
in the imagination. Here the concepts should not be repro- 
duced as they were, but different. The characteristic prop- 
erty of imagination is, therefore, originality; i. e., the novelty 
of its products. 

Imagination should, then, create the new. This cre- 
ative activity can not, however, relate to the production of 
the simple elementary concepts (sensations), which form the 
material for total concepts and for series; for these sensa- 
tions can be produced anew only by the senses, so that no 
imagination can discover a new color or an unheard sound, 
or open to him who was blind from birth a concept of the 
differences of color. This is the limitation of the imagination. 

But a wide field is open to the imagination in the varia- 
tion of combinations which can be formed from the material 
given by the senses, and whose number is inexhaustibly 
great. All melodies and harmonies consist of but few tones; 
all landscapes are composed of trees, rivers, houses, moun- 
tains, and valleys; all dramas out of certain characters and 
situations; all words out of some twenty-six letters; no 
phantasy is able to measure the manifoldness of music and 
speech, to exhaust landscapes and dramas. This is the free- 
dom of the imagination. 

This freedom becomes unbridled and brings forth only 
the hateful, the false, the quaint, the offensive, when it is 
guided by no concept of a particular purpose. The imagina- 
tion of the insane, of the dreamer, and of the child often bear 
this character. The control of this activity, hateful in its law- 
lessness, comes through the understanding, which sets a limit 
to its bounds, and a measure to its excess. This imagination 
accompanied by understanding we call in particular phantasy; 
it is this that we admire in the creations of nature and art. 

The originality of phantasy manifests itself, in that it 
alters the original associations and series by elimination 



108 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

(abstraction), addition (determination), and uniting (con- 
struction), wherefore fancy has been divided into the abstract- 
ing, the determining, and the constructive imagination. 

Remark 1. — Upon the abstracting imagination rests all common 
or general pictures in that the peculiar (individual) of a perception 
is mixed; for example, "a house," "a tree," "a man," is to be dis- 
tinguished from "this house," "this tree," "this man." Such common 
or general pictures are transformed into general notions. Since in 
the reproduction of a total or combined concept the weaker single 
concepts succumb to the opposition in consciousness, reproduction 
shows a general tendency to change our sense-pictures into general 
pictures, to generalize them, or to free them from their dependent 
relations. The imagination "clarifies" its object, in that it puri- 
fies it of all sorts of attendant disturbing contingencies. The deter- 
mining imagination manifests itself in positive adornments and 
additions, which it attaches to its object, which were taken from real- 
ity. Thus the reporter of a fact may adorn it from the stores of his 
fancy, though at the same time, thereby misrepresenting it; in the same 
way we adorn churches, dwellings, and streets according to the sug- 
gestions of fancy; in perusing a book, we read between the lines, etc. 
The constructive imagination unites the functions of its two prede- 
cessors, in that it both eliminates and adds to. It can, for example, 
mutilate the human form and replace the lacking parts by animal 
organs (fauns and satyrs, sirens, furies, medusa). If a particular 
judgment underlies this activity, the so-called ideals arise, in which 
all that disturbs is removed, and all that enhances is added. Thus 
we idealize our friend by ignoring all his human weaknesses, and by 
endowing him with perfections which he does not possess. The 
image which we form of our great men, of Schiller and Goethe, of 
Franklin and Washington, is an ideal which may be considerably 
remote from nature, but which nobody will undertake to destroy. 
The Platonic Socrates is as much of a beautiful ideal as the Platonic 
state. 

Remark 2. — Memory and imagination interlace in a manifold way, 
yet reciprocally separate. The more the mental activity in reproduc- 
tion moves along the old tracks, the more prominent does memory 
become; the more it moves in new ways through the founding of new 
simultaneities and successions, the more prominent will imagination 
appear. The boundary line between the two is not distinct; repro- 



SIGNIFICANCE OF IMAGINATION. 109 

duced perceptions are, for the most part, imaginations, because inci- 
dents are always lacking, and since in general altered reproductions 
have more chances for themselves than the unaltered. 



i 40. SIGNIFICANCE OF IMAGINATION FOR INSTRUCTION 
AND MORAL TRAINING. 

Imagination is an exceedingly important faculty of the 
soul. It broadens our mental vision beyond the bounds of the 
actual, drawn by observation and experience, into the wide 
and invisible territory of the possible, in that it places us in 
a position in which we never were, and brings objects before 
us which we have never perceived with the senses. 

In this way it becomes the condition of all progress 
in mental culture. It is that spiritual power to which all 
instruction turns, and upon whose cooperation the success of 
all instruction depends. For instruction works, aside from 
the cases of sense demonstration of what is to be presented, 
with words; i. e. , with conventional signs, and expects that 
the pupil will accompany these words with his concepts. 
But the things about which these words treat are new to the 
pupil, since instruction desires to communicate what is not 
yet known. Here it is then the business of imagination to 
seek pictures in the realm of the known, in order to combine 
from them the concepts to be awakened by instruction. As 
the type-setter places the needful type in boxes, in order to 
form words according to the writing of the manuscript, so 
imagination brings together from the stores of memory the 
pictures which instruction seeks to awaken in the conscious- 
ness of the pupil by means of words. The pupil apprehends 
the words of the instruction when his imagination succeeds 
in illustrating them by corresponding concept images. It is, 
therefore, the imagination which mediates all apprehension 
in instruction. "When it is not in condition to produce the 



110 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

illustrations of the words through their images of perception, 
the words are heard as empty sounds, and held by the 
mechanical memory as heavy ballast, as is only too often the 
case with that "learning by heart" which is empty of thought 
and concept. 

Remark 1. — The frequent failure of instruction lies mostly in the 
excessive demands which it makes on the pupils' imagination. Chil- 
dren who have seen only the very uniform surroundings of their vil- 
lage, are desired in geographical instruction to imagine coast ranges 
of mountains, elevated plateaus, steppes and deserts, seas and lakes, 
wharfs and harbors; those who have seen only a few domestic animals 
and but few cultivated plants, are expected in zoology and botany to 
supply a chaos of animal and plant names with images out of the 
small treasures of their imagination; they must accompany the gen- 
eral in his train of triumph upon the Roman Forum, and have cor- 
rect thought about the civil war of Marius and Sulla, while their 
store of observation is supplied only by the market place of their lit- 
tle native village, and the often pitiable state of a sorry political 
community. 1) 

Remark 2. — The imagination is also very important because it 
determines in our eyes the value or worthlessness of objects, and for 
this reason influences the direction of our desire and Will. By its 
assistance the mind may now adorn, now deface an object. When 
the educator controls the imagination of his pupil, he gives direction 
to his Will. Fill the consciousness of the child with moral pictures 
by means of examples and stories, and his Will of its own accord will 
take the direction of the good. 

Remark 3. — The poisoning of the imagination by the common, the 
low, and the hateful, is the source of the moral degeneration of the 
children. It is association and evil communication, and above all 
example, working with the whole force of immediate sensuousness, 
that produces this infection. 



1) Now, for the first time, has the advanced spirit of education 
taken pity on the poor children, by bringing before them in natural 
history either natural objects or good pictures of them, and even in 
geography and history by helping their "observation" by character 
pictures. 



THE CONCEPT OF TIME. Ill 

I 41. THE CONCEPT OF TIME. 

Time rests upon alteration and change. Were there no 
alteration, there would be no time; but where anything 
changes, time determinations appear at once, since one state 
appears as an earlier, the other as a later. 

If one thinks of two changes A and B, e. g. , lightning 
and thunder, and thinks of these separately, nothing especial 
is noted. But if the thought passes from A over to B; i. e., 
if A is still in consciousness when B enters, A appears as pre- 
ceding B, and B as following A — A is the earlier, B the later. 

If this observation is extended to several successively 
entering and changing concepts, we get the form of the 
series. But successive representation is not yet a represen- 
tation of succession. Animals, children, and even adults, 
represent successively without having a clear consciousness 
of succession in time. The reason of this is that in the run- 
ning off of the series ABCDEFG, the first concepts, A B 
C, sink and disappear from consciousness while the later, D E 
F, enter. All the members of the series, therefore, are at no 
instant simultaneously in consciousness, which is necessary, 
however, in order to perceive their relation and to be able to 
apprehend them as pertaining to time. 

In order that the notion of a time series may arise, three 
things are essential: 

1. That all members be simultaneously present in con- 
sciousness with a certain degree of clearness. 

2. That the series unfold successively. 

3. That this unfolding can take place only in a single 
direction, A G-, and not the reverse, G A. 

The time series has a beginning and an end, and can not 
be reversed without experiencing a destruction of its nature. 
A melody cannot be sung, or the Lord's Prayer prayed back- 
wards; the series of the German Emperors cannot be (me- 
chanically) recited backwards, 



112 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

In the time series any two members, therefore also the 
beginning and the end members, have a certain distance 
between them, which is measured by the number of tran- 
sitions through which we must pass in order to get from one 
member to another. A time which is bounded is called a 
time period. 

The time period is denned according to kind and magni- 
tude; the former by the content of the members, the latter 
by their number. If one unites several time series which, 
having equal quantities of succession (weeks, days, years), 
are distinguished only by the mere empty continuation of 
their individual members, then the differing content of the 
various coinciding members will be mutually obscured, and 
the mere quantity of succession in the changing members 
will come to consciousness. Such a time series of definite 
length and indefinite content is called an empty time period; 
e. g. , a year. 

The undefined members of this empty time period are 
the empty time points. Different empty time periods are 
distinguished by the number of their time points. If these 
are placed parallel, one will extend beyond the other. In 
this way arises the possibility of the continuance of time 
points in both directions, and, since this possibility has no 
bounds, we arrive at the conception of an empty time line, 
extending in the forward direction (future) and backward 
(past), without limit; i. e., to a conception of unending time, 
or infinity. 

Remark 1. — An object appears to be in time when it is thought 
as a member of a time series, even though the series be empty. 
Objectively considered, a fixed place in the infinitely extended time 
line belongs to it, this place being determined by two time points, one 
of which immediately precedes, and the other immediately follows it. 
Since between any two members of a time series already formed, 
other time series may be interpolated; e. g., series of seconds between 
the minutes of an hour, the empty time line becomes a continuity, 



THE CONCEPT OF SPACE. 113 

and is subject to all the contradictions pertaining to changeable mag- 
nitudes. (See the author's "Introduction to the Study of Philosophy," 
2 26.) 

Remark 2. — Time is objectively measured by numbering changes 
which repeat themselves with perfect exactness; as, for example, 
the vibrations of a pendulum or the rotation of the earth upon 
its axis. Time appears here as the multiplier of change. The 
subjective estimation of time varies as regards that which is passing 
and that which is already past. The more energetically the concept 
series run off, and the less they are separated into parts by interrup- 
tions and pauses, the briefer the passing time appears. The change 
is indeed great here, but we do not count the individual changing 
elements. The clock does not strike the hour for the busy or the 
happy. The more the series are broken up and interrupted, the more 
we are warned of the flight of time; as, e. g., in the state of waiting, 
where each series proves too short to end in the concept of the expected 
object, and must therefore be continually extended; or in that pain- 
ful state where, on the contrary, we must bear the extended series of 
unpleasant sensations, which we vainly seek to break off; or finally, 
in the state of ennui, where the flow of representation is continually 
interrupted for lack of a significant content. In all of these cases 
there are many interruptions, which produce the semblance of length- 
ened time. This holds only for the immediate present, not for the 
reproduction of a time series already past; for the reproduction of 
the insignificant and even the painful does not occur in detail, hence 
those interruptions do not arise in the remembrance of times past. 
Time periods already past appear the longer, the more they are filled 
with significant concepts: A busy day, a week full of events, a life 
rich in deeds (Alexander the Great, who died in his 33d year) appears 
long to us, because in these time series many members may be dis- 
tinguished even for memory. To sink away and be forgotten is the 
fate of the insignificant. Hours which in their course seemed days 
to us on account of their ennui, become mere moments in memory. 
Man ages when events occur rapidly to him. 



I 42. THE CONCEPT OF SPACE. THE SPACE SERIES. 

It is a fact that external things announce themselves to 
us as in certain determinate spatial relations, and that the 



114 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

fixing of these spatial relations does not rest with our sub- 
jective caprice, but belongs peculiarly to the objects them- 
selves; for it does not rest with us to regard the near as the 
remote, the large as the small, or the reverse. 

But though spatial relations are given with sense-per- 
ception, they do not, on this account, lie complete and per- 
fect for the mind in sense impressions. The various excita- 
tions of the retina, which together comprise the retinal 
image, excite in the soul only the concept of the colored and 
the lighted; they betray nothing of the spatial juxtaposition 
in which the things of the external world or the points of 
the retina affected by them stand. In the separate sensa- 
tions A and B, there is no indication that the things a and b 
are neighbors. 

That which does not lie in sensations taken singly may 

lie in their combination. True, if the concepts A B J 

are taken as strictly simultaneous, a total concept would be 
formed from them in which no trace of separation would be 
contained, just as the tones of an accord furnish no spatial 
notion. While, therefore, ABCDEFGrHIJ are present 
in consciousness as a total concept, the individual concepts 
unfold in the series form. In reality, a successive survey of 
what is simultaneously present takes place in each spatial 
apprehension. 

Should the unfolding of the series occur only in one 
direction, A J, the spatial juxtaposition would be conceived 
as a succession in time. This really occurs, when we, e. g. , 
pass through a picture gallery in one direction only, or when 
we ride along the banks of a river in only one direction. 

Spatial juxtaposition, however, allows of apprehension 
in a reverse order, J A, which, with a pure time object, e. (/., 
a melody, would not be possible. We execute the reverse 
series when we move the hand forward and back over the 
surface or edges of an object. But in this the process of 



THE CONCEPT OF SPACE. 115 

reproduction is essentially altered. Since the end members 
of the series, A and J, rise in consciousness, and the series, A 

B C . . . . and J I H approach, the development of these 

series is transformed into a stand-still, and since, now, the 
distinctions before and after are eliminated, the time series 
of succession is changed into one of spatial juxtaposition; 
i. e. , a space series arises from a time series. (Compare § 33, 
No. 4.) Every intermediate member of this series, as E, 
appears between P and D, then G- and C, etc. ; in short, from 
this point the series seeks to unfold in both directions, and 
the space series^ is distinguished from the time series in that 
it has no earlier or later members, and has not one beginning 
and one end, but two beginnings and two ends. 

The space series is determined as to kind and as to mag- 
nitude; first, by the content of the members, and second, by 
their number. In uniting a number of equally long space series, 
the opposing content of the various members becomes obscure, 
and only the form of juxtaposition, i. e. , the multiplicity or 
mere number of the members, remains. In this way we 
reach the notion of the empty space series of determined 
length, or the empty extension of space, in which the place 
of the obscured members is taken by nerve space points. By 
thinking these points indefinitely either way, the notion of a 
line extending infinitely in both directions arises. 

Remark 1. — Space has also another development which is lacking 
with time. Whenever two time series come together at a point, the 
remaining points of the two series coincide; i. e., the time series has 
only one dimension, which is indicated by the terms before and after. 
It is otherwise with space. Two space lines may cross at a point 
without coinciding, because their respective members are held apart 
by cross series (g 33, No. 3). We here attain the notion angle, as the 
deviation of two lines, as well as that of the surface as a web of space 
series, which are distingushed by a double lateral opposition (right 
and left, above and below). To the two dimensions of the surface 
there is added a third, since at all points of the plane perpendicular 



116 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

lines may be constructed, all of whose points have the same lateral 
opposition found in the surface, and also a third lateral opposition, 
viz., that of front and back. 

Remark 2. — A bounded plane is a figure. It is determined by the 
course of the boundary. This is not in itself something visible, but 
only a relation of two visible things; i. e., two colors or two degrees 
of illumination. The sharper the contrast between the two colors or 
illuminations (black upon white, or white upon black), the more dis- 
tinctly does the figure stand out against its background. The space 
series which proceed from the interior of the figure are broken at its 
periphery; the eye runs along the boundary, and the ease with which 
it follows the curves or changes at the angles of the polygon at reg- 
ular intervals, conditions the aesthetic pleasure which is connected 
with the apprehension of the boundary of surfaces. 



I 43. EXPERIENCE IN SPACE. 

It is through the assistance of the senses of sight and 
touch that we gain experience in space. With both senses 
we come upon the surface-like extension of the peripheral 
ends of the sensory nerves, — in the one case upon the retina, 
in the other upon the skin, and note the transmission of the 
stimuli over insulated primitive fibers as favorable conditions 
for an apprehension of space. 

But the surface-like arrangement of simultaneous nerve 
stimuli is in itself not a cause of the apprehension of space 
by the mind, as it would be, perhaps, in the case of an ex- 
ternal observer. Not simply because the stimuli are spatially 
arranged upon the retina and the skin does the soul perceive 
the spatial, but because their spatial arrangement favors a 
double-sided reproduction, the real condition of space appre- 
hension, and because the perceived difference in space is 
associated with certain local signs. 

Our experience of space is chiefly gained through the 
eye, and its great mobility. Our eye is, at any given instant, 



EXPERIENCE IN SPACE. 117 

directed towards a single point only in the field of vision; 
viz., toward that whose line of vision passes through the 
center of the retina, the point of greatest clearness. The 
neighboring points in the field of vision mirror themselves 
upon side points of the retina, but with diminished distinct- 
ness. If the attention is to be directed to them, the eye must 
be turned, so that one after another they fall upon the point 
of most distinct vision, which will occur without assistance 
of the Will, probably through reflex activity. But if the axis 
of vision moves to and fro along a line in the field of vision, 
a spaca series is produced in the soul, in the way which is ex- 
plained and illustrated in 2 33. 

If the eye is turned to another field of vision, a new space 
series of another content, but with the same length position 
in the field of vision, will be produced with analogous turning 
of the eyeball; and if this process is frequently repeated, 
there will arise out of the many equally long and similarly 
lying space series of different contents, the idea of an empty 
space (2 36). With this notion of an empty space will be asso- 
ciated a sum of muscular sensations, which correspond to just 
this movement of the eyeball, and which, as local signs, give 
us the ability, in the future, to measure the magnitude and 
position of these lines in the field of vision, without having 
first specifically to investigate the multitude of things in 
juxtaposition. 1 ) Thus the notions of particular distances, 
directions, and positions in the field of vision are associated 
with the muscular sensations which answer to the various 
lateral and vertical movements of the eyeball. 

With the perception peculiar to each point of the retina, 
there may, along with the objective determinations of the 



1) Direct experiments prove that a turning of the eyeball to the 
extent of about one minute of angular space can be distinguished. 
This smallest perceptible movement corresponds to the smallest per- 
ceptible retinal distance. (Wundt in Pogg. Ann., 1862, No. 8, p. 626.) 



118 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

same (color and light), be associated even a secondary deter- 
mination, whose content does not arise at all from the char- 
acter of the light stimulus, but from the position of the affected 
point in the retina, and which, therefore, gives evidence of 
this position as local sign. This is analogous to the percep- 
tion of point on the skin through touch (§ 20). Therefore even 
with a uniformly lighted field of vision, yes, even with closed 
eyes, we picture the sum of similar external or internal sen- 
sations to flow together into a single intensive impression. 1 ) 

The sense of touch works in a manner entirely analogous 
to that of sight. But it has still another function, viz. , to 
bring to our consciousness, through the space series extend- 
ing from the body, the depth of the field of vision, thereby 
supporting and completing the apprehension of the eye. 
For the eye the field of vision is a surface, without any 
depth, yes, even without distance of the various points from 
the eye. 3 ) 

It is the sense of touch which first shows us the unequal 
distances between the body as the starting point for the esti- 
mation of distance, and various points of the field of vision 
perceived by the eye, and helps us to the consciousness that the 
surface which we see does not immediately touch our body, 
but lies remote from us. Thus we literally push the surface- 
like field of vision away from the body by means of the hand; 
and the basis for the notion of the third dimension of space, 
depth, is laid. 

1) In narcotic states produced by ether or chloroform, or by the 
smoking of hashish, and in certain brain diseases, the disappearance 
of the muscular sensation is accompanied by the expansion of light- 
impressions into a surface. (See Fechner's Psycho-Physics, II. , p. 323.) 

2) The patient, born blind, who was operated upon by Chesseldon 
(see the fine analysis of this case by Drobisch, Emp. Psych., 205), 
had, after the operation, the sensation that all objects touched his 
eyes, just as in feeling they did his skin. There was no reason appar- 
ent for regarding them as at a distance. 



EXPERIENCE IN SPACE. 119 

As soon as the notion of depth is awakened through 
touch, the eye begins to observe the differences by means of 
which the unequal lengths of the radii proceeding from the 
eye to individual points in the field of vision are indicated. 
Such indications are not lacking even for monocular vision. 
Among these is the accommodation of the eye for distance, 
which is announced to us by obscure muscular sensations, 
though they escape us for great distances, — further, the 
decreasing magnitude of the angle of vision with increasing 
distance, observed in an object of constant magnitude, and 
upon which rests the linear perspective for our eye; finally 
modifications in the intensity and quality of the illumination 
which are likewise affected by distance. 

In addition to these indications, we have the muscular 
sensation of the convergence of the axes of vision in binocular 
vision, which latter is greater for adjacent than for remote 
points, 1 ) then the production of incongruent double pictures 
in the two eyes, which produce the peculiar effect observed 
in using the stereoscope. Simple vision occurs only when the 
images of a point in space fall in both eyes upon the so-called 
identical retinal spots. The totality of those points in space 
for which this condition occurs in any given fixed position of 
the axes of vision, is called the horopter. In so far as a solid 
extended object with its various dimensions deviates from 
the plane of the horopter, it is seen double; the two images 



1) Trigonometry follows the method of the eye in reckoning the 
remoteness of points in space. It, too, uses a base line, analogous to 
the distance between the eyes, and takes account of the angles. 
Recently men have applied the principle of accommodation, as found 
in monocular vision for the estimation of distance, to the construc- 
tion of instruments which give the distance of a remote point by 
simple inspection. In using these instruments, the distance of the 
object is estimated by the accommodation of the field glass effected 
by the moving of lenses. [See article, "Measure of Distance With- 
out Base-Lines and Measurement of Angles," by Dr. Emsmann and 
S. Merz in Poggendorff's Annals, 1865, Nos. 2 and 6. (Distanzmesser 
ohne Standlinien und Winkelmessung, Poggendorff's Annalen.)] 



120 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

coincide only imperfectly for our perception, and produce, 
therefore, the impression of solidity. 1 ) 

These optical indications of the depth of the field of vis- 
ion lose their validity when the objects are too far removed; 
for then the differences of accommodation, of the conver- 
gence of the axes of vision, and of the horopter, as well as 
the control of the sense of touch, all vanish. In such cases 
we locate the objects seen, in obedience to universal habit, 
as external to the eye in outer space, indeed, but at equal dis- 
tances from the eye; that is, we project them upon the inner 
surface of an imagined sphere, of uncertain remoteness. 

Remark. — When we compare the two space developing senses, 
sight and touch, with respect to their efficiency, we find that for the 
apprehension of surfaces the eye is far superior to the sense of touch, 
as it is also for the development of the notion of time. Children 
begin to observe the relations of things by means of the eye before 
they have learned to use the hand. But in regard to the apprehen- 
sion of the extended nature of bodies, the sense of touch is superior 
to that of sight; it is even a question whether the eye in itself with- 
out the assistance of touch, would obtain the dimension of space, for 
the means at the command of the eye in this respect already presup- 
pose the notion of depth. Among these means Wundt (Beitrage zur 
TJieorie der SlnneswaJirnehmungen — Contributions to the Theory of 
Sense-Perception) has emphasized one which is calculated to estab- 
lish a perception of depth through the eye alone, and to supplant the 
hand. It is the angle inclosed by the axis of vision and the vertical 
axis of the body. It is doubtless a fact that through muscular sen- 
sations we are conscious of the elevation and depression of view 
which correspond to the angle named, but their significance in regard 
to the depth of the space before us, already presupposes the idea of 
the third dimension in space: This notion can be fully revealed only 



1) With the stereoscope the incongruence of the retinal images 
occurs also externally in the photographs, of which each is especially 
calculated for one eye. Briicke has given the following explanation 
of the effect of the stereoscope in regard to the apparent solidity of 
the objects represented. He says it rests upon a series of altera- 
tions in the angle of convergence of our lines of vision, by means of 
which we make the formerly existing double images simple, and then 
ascribe to the objects a different remoteness in space. 



CONCEPTS AS PSYCHICAL POWERS. 121 

by the hand when it gives us concepts of space series extending in 
any direction from a point in the field of vision. 



\ 44. CONCEPTS AS PSYCHICAL POWEES. PSYCHOLOGICAL 

CULTURE. 

The arrest, obscuration, and reproduction of concepts 
show us that one and the same concept, without experiencing 
any qualitative change in its content, may appear in vari- 
ous states, which are severally distinguished by a greater 
or less degree of vividness or clearness. "Arrest" is a 
reduced degree of vividness, which we think of, figuratively, 
as depression toward the "threshold of consciousness;" 
obscuration is total arrest, whereby the concept, sinking ever 
lower, falls below the threshold of consciousness. Absence 
of arrest, or freedom, is the highest degree of vividness to 
which a concept can arrive, and which it would assume should 
all its opposing concepts vanish, so that it alone would dom- 
inate our consciousness. 

If a newly entering concept, A, is to reach any assign- 
able degree of clearness, it must be strong enough to over- 
come the resistance of any opposing concepts which may be 
present to consciousness. There will never be a lack of such 
antagonistic concepts, for aside from all sense-perceptions 
and reproductions, all organic changes of our body in the 
form of general and vital sensations are reflected in our con- 
sciousness and constantly occupy it. 

If we posit the total power with which a vital sensation 
resists any opposing concepts seeking recognition in con- 
sciousness as equal to X, then any entering concept can 
maintain itself in consciousness, only as it is able to over- 
come the resistance X. But even in this case, it will lose a 
portion of its intensity or strength through arrest from the 
side of the vital sensation; it will soon even succumb to this 



122 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

arrest if it is a reproduction, since the vital sensation is con- 
stantly renewed on account of the continuous organic nerve 
excitation, thereby causing constant fresh arrest, but the 
vital sensation experiences no detrimental arrest itself. 

It is otherwise with a sense-perception to which we wholly 
yield; this does, indeed, experience arrest from the side of 
vital sensation; but whatever it may lose in intensity by 
arrest is restored through the continuation of the nerve exci- 
tation. Experience shows us, in fact, that only sense-per- 
ceptions (sensations) maintain themselves for a considerable 
time at a certain degree of intensity, and that only these 
can be elevated to a state of freedom from arrest. 

Similar to sense-perceptions in intensity are those con- 
cepts for which the sense-perceptions present act as aids to 
reproduction, thus resisting their arrest. These also maintain 
themselves in consciousness for long periods. Thus the image 
of our departed friend stands vividly before the mind, because 
the sense-perception of our surroundings constantly reminds 
us of him. 

Then come those concepts to which an exxended circle 
of aids to reproduction stands at command, because they are 
"old concepts" and have therefore been frequently in con- 
sciousness with many other concepts. The man of thought, or 
of passion, or the insane man, is able to busy himself with con- 
cepts which are unrelated to the sphere of sense about him. 

Remark 1. — The consciousness of the infant is a chaos of mani- 
fold, opposed, and disconnected images; a chaos which approaches 
absence of consciousness. Within this chaos arise first points of 
crystallization of individual but stronger sensations which recipro- 
cally unite. "Every group of concepts thus united may be regarded 
as an element of mental culture." (Volkmann.) With this all-sided 
uniting of concepts the process of mental growth begins, and really 
never closes during life, for there is always something to be added to 
the concept structure already formed, something to be readjusted, 
something new to be connected. The slow and stable manner in 



APPERCEPTION. 123 

which this process is completed in man marks the noble superiority 
of human nature in contrast with the impetuosity, the one-sidedness, 
the blindness, and passion of the mental life of animals, which remains 
confined in a narrow compass of sensations and concepts during life, 
without finding the crystallizing points for an all-sided grouping and 
uniting of concepts. "In the apprehension of the animal, there is 
scarcely anything but the homogeneous; whereas with man the hetero- 
geneous abounds. On this account, the animal is quickly developed, 
while man delays The development of the animal is tumul- 
tuous; almost everything simultaneous is arrested, since it mostly con- 
tains only notions which are opposed, and the later moment finds 
only fragments of what was present at the earlier. But the stream 
of human mental development is broader; with man, the most man- 
ifold threads of thought progress simultaneously, and for this reason 
become interwoven" (Volkmann.) 

Remark 2. — A concept does not pass into pure nothing through 
obscuration, but passes from the actuality of presence in conscious- 
ness to the possibility of being recalled to consciousness. This is the 
law of the continued existence of concepts, which is analogous to the 
law of inertia of bodies once set in motion. As in the latter, motion 
would continue infinitely unless overcome by resistance, so also would 
a concept continue in the soul forever with an even intensity, did not 
opposing concepts arrest it. In reproduction this opposition is over- 
come, and the concept is lifted from its arrested into its free state. 



I 45. APPERCEPTION. 

Obscured concepts are not wholly lost, but may be repro- 
duced at any moment. From the unnumbered store of obscure 
concepts which we carry about with us, are reproduced, now 
these, now those elements, according as they find assistance 
in the concepts already appearing in consciousness. (? 44.) 
Every newly entering concept seeks, in accordance with the 
laws of reproduction, to bring with it a certain group of 
similar or related concepts; if these older reproduced con- 
cepts are sufficiently strong, the new and just entering con- 
cept must submit to a modification through them — they enter 



124 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

as different from what they would be, were those older concepts 
not present. The transformation of a newer (weaker) concept 
by means of an older one surpassing the former in power and 
inner organization bears the name of apperception, in contrast 
to the unaltered reception of the same perception. 

The older concept is called the apperceiving, the newer 
the apperceived, — and the whole process consists in this, that 
the latter is compared with the former and must adjust itself 
to the older as the stronger. 1 ) 

If the new idea has elements which coincide with the 
apperceiving concept, they appear with added intensity; if 
it has points not consonant with the stronger concept, they 
are suppressed, in that they are almost exclusively subject 
to arrest. True, the newly entering concept (the apper- 
ceived) appears at first to have the advantage, in that, on 
account of its novelty, it claims the attention with full power, 
especially if a sense-perception, whereas the older concept 
mass needs time in which to assert itself; but soon this rela- 
tion is reversed, since the older concepts, on account of 
their many-sided connections in the web of series, are able 
to attract more and more assisting concepts, which free 
the apperceiving concepts from arrest. , The process closes 
finally, in that the apperceiving concept takes the apper- 
ceived up into itself, after it has assimilated the latter; i. e. , 
absorbed what is like and repelled what is foreign and 
opposed. 

The condition' of apperception is the presence of power- 
ful masses of concepts which, standing in the middle point 
of a wide-branching web of series (§ 33, Remark 2), and 
supported by numerous helping concepts, can easily repel 
every arrest caused by newly entering concepts. Only grad- 



1) Compare my work on "The Essential Form of Right Methods " 
(§ 10 and 31), for an explanation of apperception from the standpoint of 
the judgment and the syllogism. — Translator. 



APPERCEPTION. ' 125 

ually do concepts elevate themselves to such commanding 
position, in that they frequently pass through consciousness 
and associate themselves with numerous concept groups and 
series. We have here a growth of concepts with increasing 
age and through repeated acts of apperception. Every act 
of apperception strengthens the apperceiving concept, because 
it absorbs in itself the new concepts. Herein is explained 
the unyielding opposition which elderly people who have lived 
and worked in a narrow sphere make to every attempt to 
change their opinions. 

Yet it sometimes happens that older apperception masses 
are shaken, altered, and even completely transformed by 
newly entering concepts, so that the course of apperception 
is reversed. "The indisputable evidence of a new perception 
necessitates the already firmly fixed theory to undergo modi- 
fications; new experiences unsettle old convictions, and in 
general break up old and cherished notions" (Volkmann). 
Such a transformation does not occur without violent emo- 
tional excitement, if it comes on suddenly, as when we, for 
example, discover our friend in open faithlessness. It may, 
however, through the progress of our experience, come to pass 
gradually and assume the character of a refining or clear- 
ing up of our principles, views, and convictions. Thus, 
apperceiving concept masses alter not only with regard to 
strength, but also with regard to content. Apperception 
may even increase, or become more powerful, in that the 
apperceiving concepts are themselves apperceived by masses 
and concepts of a higher order. By means of such an arrange- 
ment of concepts, the organic unity of our consciousness is 
produced. 

Remark 1. — When apperception does not take place there is a 
thoughtless surrender to the changing impressions of the outer world, 
which manifests itself as childish. naivete, or as dependence of judg- 
ment and bearing. Mere perception yields itself up to the outer 



126 ' EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

impressions, apperception seeks to subordinate them; there man is a 
slave, here he is master of his surroundings and his fate in the sense 
of the Stoic maxim, Slbi res, non se rebus subjicere. 

Remark 2. — Every apperceiving concept rules in its own realm of 
concepts; it has its own field of apperception, for example, the realm 
of numbers with the mathematician, of tones with the musician, etc. 
The apperception masses may be themselves more or less definite; if 
they are too indefinite they produce that easy, superficial apprehension 
so often found in common-place men, which does not trouble itself 
with nicer distinctions. With a sharper defining of the apperceiving 
concept masses, the apprehension is more difficult, but also more fun- 
damental, as we notice with philosophical minds, which are not so 
quickly ready with a judgment. The shallow physician apperceives 
a given case of sickness upon the spot; the indifferent judge does the 
same for a lawsuit intrusted to him for decision; whereas his more 
reasonable colleague reflects before he decides. 



I 46. SIGNIFICANCE OF APPERCEPTION. ATTENTION. 

Apperception is the form in which the mental culture of 
the individual and of society is completed. It is a kind of 
process of condensation of thought and brings into the mental 
life a certain stability and firmness, in that it subordinates 
new to older impressions, puts everything into its right 
place and in its right relation to the whole, and in this way 
works at that organic formation of our consciousness which 
we call "culture." By means of apperception, the individual 
fact is held fast and remembered, whereas it would otherwise 
fleetly pass us by. The apperceiving concepts are the best 
supports of memory. 

Apperception is exceedingly important for attention (2 
27). To give attention to an object, means to hold the con- 
cept of it in consciousness against the threatened arrest. 
This may be done in two ways, either through the continu- 
ance of the sense excitation, or through the reinforcement of 
helping concepts; the former is the basis of sense, the latter 



SIGNIFICANCE OF APPERCEPTION. 127 

of spiritual attention. Further, since in the latter case the 
assistance may flow in of itself, or may be brought about by 
design, attention appears either as involuntary or voluntary. 

With regard to spiritual attention, it may be remarked 
that there could be no more powerful reinforcement of a con- 
cept on the part of helping concepts than that which is 
afforded by apperceiving concept masses. Even the most 
insignificant phenomenon is firmly held as soon as it meets a 
freely-mounting apperception mass. Our spiritual attention 
is involuntarily turned towards those concepts which meet 
with apperceiving concepts in our consciousness. Since the 
formation of apperception masses varies with different indi- 
viduals, since this depends upon their biographical develop- 
ment, it becomes plain why the attention and its, higher and 
more constant expression — interest — apply themselves to dif- 
ferent phenomena with different men. The jeweler discovers 
the flaw in the diamond, but pays little attention to the finer 
differences in the blossoming of plants, for which the botanist 
is so sharp-sighted; not the slightest symptom of sickness 
escapes the physician, but he does not remark deficiencies 
in bedding and linen, which his wife would have perceived 
first of all. 

Nothing is so characteristic of the culture of the indi- 
vidual or of a people as the objects with which their atten- 
tion most loves to busy itself. The more universal the cul- 
ture, the wider is the compass of these objects. With the 
little child, whose mind is not formed, spiritual attention 
can not be depended upon; his mental activity follows only 
the direction of the strongest sense impressions and the 
charm of novelty. For this reason it is the hardest task of 
early instruction to hold the attention of the child; associa- 
tion with what is already known, appropriate introductions, 
and the assistance of sense impressions are the best means 
to this end. 



128 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

Finally, it is the apperception which brings about the 
phenomena of intelligence, to which we shall turn our atten- 
tion in the next chapter. 

Remark. — Apperception is the reaction of the old against the 
new — in it is revealed the preponderance which the older, firmer, 
and more self-contained concept groups have in contrast to the 
concepts which have just entered consciousness. This superiority in 
strength may go so far as to falsify the outer perceptions, in that even 
sense impressions are apperceived by strong concept structures. 
The timid see ghosts everywhere; to the unhappy everything appears 
black; to the optimist everything is seen in a rosy light. 1) 

Apperceiving concepts cause us to see things even where there are 
none; as, for example, the schoolmaster his absent pupil. Appercep- 
tion enables us to see things, not as they are in themselves, but 
through the medium of our former experience, as through a colored 
glass. Our yiew of the established order of things is subjectively 
colored. No angel grasps the pure truth — much less a man. Every 
thing known for which we have the helps of apperception, seems 
natural to us because it awakens responses in us, and because we can 
easily find our bearings in it; the strange and foreign leaves us cold 
and awakens at most only our surprise — we know not what we have 
to do with it; hence the impulse to give significance to everything, 
to explain it, to relate it to the known; hence, when the name of a 
man, a city, an event is mentioned, the satisfaction of being able to 
say, "I know the man, I have been to the city, the circumstances of 
the event were so and so." Even in science, all explanation seeks to 
lead the new back to that already known, and thereby to bring it 
into harmony with the whole. 

I 47. FATE OF CONCEPTS. REVIEW AND RESULTS. 

The elements of soul life are sense-perceptions. From 
them, in accordance with the laws of simultaneity and suc- 

1) "The botanist sees much in a plant, the horsedealer in a horse; 
the musfcan hears much in a piece of orchestral music, of whose 
presence in the sense perception the layman has no idea. From the 
same story each hearer interprets something different; out of the 
same laws each party interprets its right; the same turn of battle is 
proclaimed by both armies as a victory. Out of the same book of 
nature the different readers, men and people, have gathered the most 
diverse things" (Volkmann). 



FATE OF CONCEPTS. 129 

cession, are formed composite concepts and series of concepts. 
In so far as we project our sensations upon an outer world, 
they are called outer, or sense-perceptions. 

Concepts in general are originally mere qualities. If 
they meet simultaneously in consciousness, there follows in 
consequence of the unity of consciousness a reciprocal action, 
in which their like and opposing characteristics make them- 
selves felt. In that the similar further and the opposed 
arrest, individual concepts become powers, and assume in 
the reciprocal struggle various degrees of clearness. The 
degree of clearness of a concept will be so much the higher, 
the more it is furthered — so much the less, the more it is 
arrested or opposed. Hereby, concepts acquire the notion 
of quantity, and can be graphically represented as ordinates, 
which stand perpendicular to the threshold of consciousness. 
(Statics and Dynamics of Concepts in Herbart. See Fig. 1.) 

For concepts there is the law of continuous existence, 
whereby they perpetually endure when once they have ex- 
isted. If they are obscured by newly entering concepts, 
they continue to exist in a fettered state and may, under 
favorable conditions, be again unfettered; that is, repro- 
duced. Through the possibility of reproduction, which is 
always open to them, they assume an essential function in 
the events of consciousness, and in their totality form the 
potential consciousness of man. 

In actual consciousness, sense assumes the most impor- 
tant role. Concepts arising through sense-perception have 
a lasting source of power in the sense excitations, and resist 
successfully the arresting influences which fall upon them, 
and may, without special effort, be long held in consciousness. 

Reproduced concepts whose physical objects are not im- 
mediately before our senses, do not possess this lasting 
source of power. It is, therefore, difficult to hold them for 
long periods of time up to a given degree of concept clear- 



130 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

ness. What the nerve excitation is for the sense-perception, 
the support of helping concepts at its service in conscious- 
ness is to the reproduced concept. Individual concepts for 
which a large number of helping concepts are at hand, can 
be supported at a considerable height of clearness (favorite 
notions, solicitudes, interests). Only under certain, mostly 
abnormal, conditions does the reproduced concept arise to 
the intensity of the sensation (visions, hallucinations). 

According as the reproduction bears the character of the 
old, that which has already been present, or that of the new, 
it is divided into the action of memory or of imagination. 
Both mediate the transition to intelligence. Memory fur- 
nishes the content, imagination gives the form, the under- 
standing gives the rules. 

In our concepts, although they are merely subjective 
states, we perceive very soon indications of an external 
world. This outer world presents itself to us in the forms 
of space and time. The space and time arrangement in which 
things external to us are found, is reconstructed by the soul 
by means of apprehension in the series form. Space is the 
perfect scheme of an all-sided series apprehension. Concepts 
of time and space become so familiar to us that we project 
all things in space, and all events in time, so that it is the 
most difficult task for our faculty of apprehension to think 
anything as time-less and space-less. 



CHAPTER III. 
THE INTELLECT. 

§ 48. THINKING IN GENERAL. 

The formation of the higher concept structures, which 
impress upon our soul life its peculiar type, depends upon 
the manner in which the association of concepts occurs. 
There are two great principles in accordance with which the 
association is formed; first, the principle of the content of 
what is presented to the mind (likeness, similarity, difference, 
opposition); and second, the principle of simultaneity \ and 
the series conditioned by it. 

The association of concepts according to simultaneity and 
the series, is accidental, external, mechanical; because the 
reason for the union is here the purely accidental fact of the 
meeting of concepts in our consciousness, and on no account 
because of any inner relation of content. Even the contra- 
dictory may here be joined together, even the disparate 
united. Combinations of concepts arise to which nothing 
outside of consciousness corresponds. 

When without effort or special purpose we give our 
thoughts free play, they often take this mechanical course, 
which is characterized by involuntary leaps and quaint com- 
binations. This finds its most perfect manifestation in wak- 
ing and healthy states, but we never find entirely pure types 
of the mechanical association of concepts in dreams, in men- 
tal derangement, or insanity. 



132 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

Very different is that association which is in accord with 
the content of the concepts, and which for this reason appears 
as a necessary, inner, and logical one. The ground of unit- 
ing does not here lie in the subjective encounter of concepts, 
but in their logical and content relations, which remain the 
same under all conditions, and are alike at all times and for 
all minds. The most perfect expression of this logical asso- 
ciation of concepts is found in the state of reflection, in 
logical contest, in scientific treatise, and in mathematical 
demonstration. 

The menial adjustment according to the content of to hat 
is present to consciousness is called thinking y and the faculty 
of thought is the understanding. 

But one adjusts himself according to the content of that 
which is present to consciousness when one unites that which 
should be united and separates that which should be sepa- 
rated. Since the elements of concepts, the sense-perceptions, 
are given to us in a manner independent of our assistance, 
thought can only manifest itself in the synthesis which it 
brings about between these elements. In truth judgment 
as the act of uniting and separating forms the peculiar func- 
tion of thought. Perceiving without the judgment's syn- 
thesis and separation of elements would be purely mechan- 
ical activity of mind, but not thinking. 

Logic distinguishes three functions of thought; the for- 
mation of conceptions (general notions), judgments, and of 
syllogisms, and traces all these functions back to the concep- 
tions, or general notions, and their relations. Psycholog- 
ically the act of judging precedes the formation of general 
notions and the use of the syllogism, for notions are only the 
result of judgments about things, — syllogisms are only 
mediated judgments. 

Remark. — Thought will often have to disturb the connections of 
concepts as they are preserved in memory, in order to give them their 



THE JUDGMENT. 133 

proper thought form. In this elaboration, which destroys the old in 
order to construct the new, the imagination assists, yet not as a deter- 
mining force, but rather as an assistant. When the imagination runs 
away with the understanding, the quiet movement of thought comes 
to an end; it is also excluded where the imagination is too weak to 
disturb the accidental originally formed connections of concept life. 
The former is noted in poetic extravagance with its exaggerations and 
idealizations; the latter appears in the sad spectacle of idiocy and 
feeble-mindedness, in which there is incapacity to adjust the acci- 
dental associations of consciousness by means of any opposing con- 
cepts. One can not argue with an idiot on logical grounds. He regards 
the lowest as highest and the highest as lowest, and in general plays 
with the objects of intelligence according to the humor of his will. 
Truth is, however, supreme above all arbitrariness; it mocks at all 
the efforts of even the strongest will; it may be denied, distorted, 
discarded — it ever asserts its validity through its own might. 



I 49. THE JUDGMENT. 

As the logical judgment arises from a question and an 
answer, so there are two distinguishable stages in the psy- 
chological act of judging; viz. , the stage of reflection and 
that of DECISION. 

First, there must be two concepts, A and B. One of 
these, A, from which the thought proceeds, is the subject; 
the other, B, to which it extends, is the predicate. The sub- 
ject is therefore the given, or presupposed; the predicate, 
the added, or united. 

Were there nothing but the two concepts, A and B, 
present, these would simply fuse, and we should have the 
combined concept, AB, but in no sense the judgment, < 'A is B. " 

If I perceive a person and recognize him at once as my 
friend B, there arises such a simple fusion, without ever com- 
ing to a judgment. 

If, on the other hand, a subject concept, A, presents 
several opposing concepts, B, C, D, E, the comple- 



134 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

tion of a union with A is postponed, in that each of them 
asserts a claim to be united with A, but is hindered in this 
attempted union by the like striving of the others. There 
arises a vacillation, whereby it is undecided whether A is B 
or C or D. This is the stage of reflection or of doubt, because 
we have to consider two cases; A is B or A is not B. Each 
of these judgments is problematic. 

Reflection immediately arises when I see a person known 
to me, whom I do not at once recognize. I am inclined to 
regard this person A as my acquaintance B, but it occurs to 
me at once that it may be my friend C or D. Or, I see a 
bird; the sight of it recalls to me the general concepts, night- 
ingale, lark, linnet, etc. ; thus arises a reflection as to which 
of these birds it is, since it may turn out to be one or the 
other. 

This stage of reflection will continue so long as the oppos- 
ing predicate concepts, even though in rapid change, are 
present to consciousness with the same degree of clearness. 
It will be terminated in favor of a certain predicate concept, 
B, as soon as any other concept, m, appears and offers such 
decided help to B, that it rises with positiveness into con- 
sciousness, causing its opposing concepts, C, J), E, 

to sink. Now, nothing will stand in the way of the union 
of B with A, and this union will, under these peculiar cir- 
cumstances, appear as the judgment "A is B. " This is the 
second stage of judging, that of decision. 

The relation of the many predicate concepts in the stage 
of reflection, may as with Herbart be compared to the rounded 
arch; that in the stage of decision, to the pointed arch. They 
may be graphically represented in the following scheme: 



THE JUDGMENT. 
(Fig. 8.) 



135 




The concept M, which brings about the decision, is the 
psychological ground of the judgment. This bird is a night- 
ingale, because it has this peculiar note; this man is my 
acquaintance, B, because he has this peculiar walk. 

The act of judging falls under the notion of Apperception. 
The subject concept, which is not yet precisely fixed, is, as 
newly entering concept, apperceived by the older and 
stronger predicate concept. 

Remark 1. — Each judgment is made but once, for the doubt which 
was thereby overcome remains decided for all future time, provided 
the reflection was a fundamental one. Thus the youth judges where 
the man has already formed his judgment. Every true judgment 
expresses at the same time an extension of our knowledge because it 
gives rise to combinations which were not there before, and which 
answer to the content of what is thought. All progress of thought is 
connected with the formation of judgments. The analytical judgment 
merely clears up our knowledge, whereas the synthetical extends it. 

Remark 2. — The formation of the judgment is distinguished from 
the mere association of concepts, in that it does not occur without 
resistance. This resistance arises from the opposing predicate con- 
cepts which are involved in the reflection. Therefore judgments are 
not announced when this resistance is absent; when, for example, the 



136 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

events arise as they were expected. But where the subject concept 
brings with it the opposite of what was expected, we feel called upon 
to judge, because the expectation comes between the subject and its 
accompanying concept. "The sick man is dead" we say, because we 
had expected life. 

Remark 3. — Can animals also form judgments? — The dog knows 
his master; he understands the signs which are made to him; arrived 
at a ditch, he decides whether he can leap over it or not. Even if 
here and there in the animal world we find a certain analogy with 
judging, yet there are wanting this peculiar calculating reflection 
and the conscious choice from among several offered predicates. That 
the judgments of animals rest upon associations of concepts arising 
from habit and training is clear when an animal is brought into an 
unaccustomed position, and where, left in the lurch by its own expe- 
riences, it must judge from its own reflection. Yet not only the ani- 
mal, but also the child, and the adult accustomed only to a mechanical 
life, lose their heads when placed in entirely new positions and rela- 
tions, when they are thrown entirely upon their own understanding 
for the formation of an independent judgment. 



I 50. THE SYLLOGISM. 

In logic the syllogism appears as a mediated judgment. 
The logical relation of two notions, A and B, is mediately 
determined through their relation to a middle notion, M. 

Psychologically, every judgment is mediated. Every 
judgment independently made is preceded by a reflection, 
and is brought to a conclusion by the appearance of M, its 
psychological ground (? 49). 

But in the majority of cases, this decision is made so 
rapidly that we are not distinctly conscious of the grounds 
which have been active in the process. 

The frequent correct j udgment of men of slight mental 
culture, and especially of children and women, is to be 
accounted .for as in consequence of certain obscure concepts 
which are influential in the decision without coming clearly 



THE SYLLOGISM. 137 

to consciousness. When we ask these persons why they have 
thus decided, they are incapable of giving us satisfactory 
reasons. 1 ) 

Judgment following from such obscure psychological 
grounds furnishes but small guaranty for correctness. Where 
we have to do with the highest degree of certainty, as, for 
example, in scientific demonstrations, in logical contests, 
etc., one must be clearly conscious of the grounds upon 
which one judges. This will be the case when the relation 
of the middle notion, M, to the two chief notions, A and B, 
is determined by judgments, which are then called premises. 

So far as the syllogism is concerned, logic is concerned 
with showing the various ways in which the conclusion "A 
is B," may, through the mediation of the middle notion, M, 
be derived from the two premises. It shows that the whole 
of these forms of the syllogism may be reduced to a single 
fundamental form called the first categorical figure: 
M is B Major Premise 

A is M Minor Premise 



hence A is B Conclusion. 

The Major Premise corresponds to a general rule, the 
Minor Premise posits a special case, which in the conclusion 
is subsumed under the general rule. 

But the transition from the universal to the particular 
corresponds but slightly to the psychological course of experi- 
ence, because experience begins with the given, and the 
given is the concrete and individual. It therefore seems 
appropriate to reverse the order of the premises of this ground 



1) In this connection the intellectual instinct of women is remark- 
able. They are usually able to hit the truth, yet without being able 
to formulate their thought in an entirely logical way. And "what is 
not perceived by the understanding of the adult, is often seen directly 
by the childish mind." 



138 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

form of the syllogism, as Drobisch has already done, for psy- 
chological use; thus, 

A is M Minor Premise 

M is B Major Premise 



A is B Conclusion. 

that is, M is a characteristic of A, B is a characteristic of 
M, therefore B is a characteristic of A. 

This appears more clearly when the transition is made 
through several middle notions or terms. Only the Aristotel- 
ian, not the Goclenian sorites corresponds to psychological 
thought. (See sorites in Webster's Dictionary.) 

Remark. — Reasoning through the syllogism depends essentially 
upon subordinating the particular to the general. But since in experi- 
encing only the particular or in reality only the single is given, the 
universal judgments which form the major premises of our syllogisms, 
must be derived from the particular and individual. This arises 
mostly through induction. It is concluded that that which holds in 
one case or in many cases of the same kind, must hold in all cases of 
this kind. Logically considered, the inductive conclusion is only one of 
probability; psychologically regarded, it has often the highest degree 
of subjective certainty. That to-morrow the sun will rise, because it 
has thus far risen every day, is for every man ,a truth which appears 
little less certain than that twice two are four. And yet this truth 
rests only upon a conclusion of probability. The inductive reasoning 
of the common mind is characterized by its inconsiderateness, in that 
men, following their impulse towards generalization, are often inclined 
hastily to draw unwarranted conclusions from a few isolated cases. 
(Compare the Author's Logic, \ 86.) The most of our major prem- 
ises, which form the basis of our inductive reasoning, have themselves 
arisen from induction, and have, therefore, only a borrowed univer- 
sality. The premise, "All men are mortal," and similar premises have 
only inductive universality. 



TRUTH OF THE JUDGMENT. 139 

i 51. TRUTH OF THE JUDGMENT. 

A judgment is true when it gives rise to such a con- 
nection between our concepts as corresponds to their content. 
The judgment < 'Man is mortal, " is true; the judgment i 'Chalk 
is an element," is false, because the asserted connection 
between subject and predicate in the first judgment corre- 
sponds to the content of what is thought, but in the second 
runs counter to this content. 

Whether the judgment is true or false will depend upon 
the manner in which the reflection and decision are made. 
Very many judgments are false because they are made with- 
out any reflection, in that the first predicate that offers itself 
is united to the subject. Such a judgment, made without 
any reflection, is called a u prejudice." With other judg- 
ments the reflection is indeed present, but not compassing 
all possible predicates it becomes one-sided. Finally, though 
all predicates are considered, the necessary < 'impartiality of 
judgment" is wanting, in that one is already prepossessed in 
favor of a certain decision. In this condition there is in con- 
sciousness a concept or a mass of concepts, M, which secretly 
reinforces some one of the many presented predicates, and 
which has its ground, not in the content of what is thought, 
but in the subjective constitution of the emotional side of the 
mind, — in desires, inclinations, passions, or prejudices. On 
this account it happens that, in thinking, one often brings 
forth results which he desired to produce; that is, he has 
judged from subjective grounds. 

Subjective grounds of this sort are concepts which, 
without bearing on inner relation to subject and predicate, 
attach themselves to them rather by accidental association; 
for instance, newly entering sense-perceptions, sudden fan- 
cies, or reproductions in consequence of mere habit. They 
may decide the result of the reflection, without giving the 
judgment any claim to real validity. 



140 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

In addition, expectations, wishes, and fears often influ- 
ence the result of the decision, and therefore have the ten- 
dency to falsify the judgment. The prejudices of the mind 
mix themselves up with the business of the understanding, 
and it is this interference which makes it so hard to arrive at 
truth regarding certain things; as, for example, one's self. 

In the course of the psychological life of the individual, 
as of societies and of ages, certain apperceiving concepts 
are formed, which cannot remain without influence upon the 
judgment. They furnish the major premises of judgments 
according to which our opinions of every day matters are 
determined. The judgment of the benevolent man is one 
thing, that of the avaricious man another; while the judg- 
ments of different parties and sects in public life concerning 
the same things must differ, because the major premises of 
judgments differ. 

Remark. — The most dangerous enemy to truth is self-interest. A 
judge must not decide in his own case, and the witness is the more 
trustworthy the less personal interest he has in the result of the dis- 
pute. Love is so blind because self-interest robs it of all reflection, 
and the highest degree of love, that of self-love, makes a correct 
judgment regarding itself almost impossible. Were all truths as indif- 
ferent and cold as those of mathematics, the search for truth would 
be much easier. In very many cases, man sells his judgment to sat- 
isfy the claims of comfort and selfishness. 



i 52. THE FORMATION OF NOTIONS. 

Any concept is a psychological notion in so far as it 
answers to the content of ic hat is perceived; i. e., to the object 
to which it relates. It should, therefore, have no more and 
no less partial concepts than the object has characteristics. 

Since a concept never appears in consciousness alone 
(i 27), it must be freed from all simultaneous concepts which 



THE FORMATION OF NOTIONS. 141 

do not belong to the matter in hand and which, therefore, do 
not concern the concept itself. This is accomplished when it 
becomes the middle point of our attention, consciousness 
being focused upon it. (See Fig. 2, in \ 27.) In this way it 
reaches the highest degree of clearness of which it is capable. 

But a concept must not only be made clear; it must 
also be made distinct. That is clear which, as a whole, is 
distinguished from everything else; that is distinct in which 
the component elements are distinguished. Only the com-" 
pound can be made distinct. 

We make concepts distinct through judgments, by means 
of which characteristics lying in the content of that which is 
perceived are brought to light. I distinguish a square when 
I say, it is quadrangular, it is equilateral, it is right-angled. 

A notion is, therefore, a concept, clear and distinct as pos- 
sible, which answers to the content of that vihich is perceived. 

The concept, as a general term for any mental product, 
is distinguished from the notion; for, a) there are an infinite 
number of concepts of a thing, but only one notion; different 
men may at different times represent it, yet there is but one 
way in which it can be truly done; b) the concept as a men- 
tal state is something actual; the notion, on the other hand^ 
is only a particular form of representing, and has the same 
reality that number has; c) the concept is dependent upon 
being conceived, it is nothing outside of the perceiving sub- 
ject, and as a mental state has a certain intensity, a begin- 
ning, a duration, and an end; the notion, on the contrary, is 
timeless, and not dependent upon being in consciousness. 
There would, for instance, be a notion of God, if no one were 
in condition to form one; d) the notion is the pattern for the 
concept, the scheme in accordance with which it must adjust 
itself, if it is to answer to the content of the actual. Notions 
are logical ideals. While concepts are something in motion, 
are changeable, accidental, and subjective, notions are dis- 



142 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

tinguished by their rest, unchangeableness, necessity, and 
validity. (For this reason they were held to be true exist- 
ences by the philosopher, Plato.) 

Remark. — The judgment is the mother of the notion; every judg- 
ment as soon as made is transformed into a notion, which is made dis- 
tinct by a predicate determination, that is, by a characteristic. The 
judgment, "the soul is immortal," is transformed into the notion 
immortal soul. As the notion becomes distinct through the affirma- 
tive judgment, so it is made clear through the negative judgment, 
being thus distinguished from other similar notions. Precision of 
thought is shown in the sharp distinguishing of notions. 



I 53. KINDS OF NOTIONS. 

Notions are either individual or general. The object of 
an individual notion is the individual thing; that of the gen- 
eral notion is the multiplicity of single things which, agree- 
ing in any particular, properly belong together, and hence 
form a class, even though widely separated in space and time. 

Individual as well as general notions arise from sense- 
perception through abstraction. If a single thing is perceived 
repeatedly, hence under different circumstances, the concept 
A is found each time to be united with another group of con- 
cepts, m, n, o , whereby the total concepts, Am, An, 

Ao arise. If, now, the object A is perceived, all of 

these concept masses are reproduced according to the law of 

similarity, when the opposing concepts, m, n, o, are 

obscured, and A is intensified and freed from all simulta- 
neous concepts, that is, becomes a notion. During this pro- 
cess there is a concentration of attention upon the object A. 
In this way the child, through repeated observation and 
attention, reaches the notions of the individual things which 
surround it; for illustration, "this rose" — but not rose in 



KINDS OF NOTIONS. 



143 



general. 1 ) The attention must be withdrawn from the vase in 
which the rose is, and the table upon which the vase stands. 
General notions also arise from sense-perceptions through 
abstraction. If one has gained a number of similar percep- 
tions, for example, of different houses, and later sees a given 
house, the previously gained perceptions of houses are repro- 
duced according to the law similarity, and of themselves 
arranged in series. All the members of this series have a 
common chief element, AB, which comprises that which be- 
longs to all these perceptions, e. g. , the houses, and are dis- 
tinguished only by certain minor determinations, C, D, E, F, 
G, which belong to them individually. It is natural that the 
concept of this chief element, since it occurs in all members 
of the series, should attain to a special strength, or inten- 
sity, while the minor elements should sink beneath the thres- 
hold of consciousness. 

(Fig. 9.) 
AB 



ABC 



ABB 



ABB ABF 



ABG 



Thus there arises at first a common image, which is, 
however, clouded by those manifold minor concept elements 
which linger about it. Only when the abstraction is com- 



1) The formation of this notion is greatly facilitated if the object 
is a movable one. Since as a movable object it is observed with vari- 
ous surroundings, it can the more easily be released from the back- 
ground which is at the same time perceived with it. On this account 
the child apprehends the living thing easier than the lifeless one — the 
cat easier than the table. 



144 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

pletely freed from everything non-essential and subordinate, 
by means of negative judgments, does it become a general 
notion. But this abstraction is never wholly completed, 
because the opposing minor determinations, C, D, E, F, Gr, . . . 
do not have like intensity. Let us assume that in the group 
of perceptions from which A B is to be abstracted, the mem- 
bers ABC and A B F predominate; they will not suffer total 
obscuration, but will hover round the common image, AB. 
The content of the common image, u house," which arises 
from perceptions of huts, palaces, churches, barracks, etc., 
will bear the marks of this field of observation, and will 
depend upon what perceptions predominate. 1 ) 

The perceptions ABC, ABD, ABE . . . . e. g. , stone house, 
frame 'house, one-story house, two-story house, cottage, 
palace . . . . , logically considered, form the extent or compass 
of the general notion AB (house). From this arises the im- 
portant principle: General notions are thought psy 'cholog- 
icaltyj not through their content (sum total of characteristics, 
definition), but through their extent (survey of kinds, number, 
or quantity of that to which the notion applies). The notion 
< 'color'' can be thought no other way than through red, 
orange, green, blue, violet. 

Remark 1. — The general notion makes demands upon our con- 
ceiving power which become the more difficult of fulfillment the 
higher the notion is, because the number of particular determinations 
to be repressed increases with the universality of the notion. In addi- 
tion, the extent of these notions gradually becomes too great for us 
even superficially to apprehend with our conceiving power. How 
great, for example, is the extent of the notion "animal"! How is it 
possible, even superficially, to think the enormous extent, which 



1) The dweller in the capital, who sees mostly palaces about him, 
will make quite another image of the notion "house," than that made 
by the inhabitant of the peasant village, whose eyes rest mostly upon 
wretched huts, even though each makes an earnest endeavor to free 
his mind of all non-essential elements in forming his notion of the 
house. 



SPEECH AND THOUGHT, 145 

embraces all mammals, fishes, birds, butterflies, bugs, and insects, the 
elephant and the plant-louse. And yet, whoever asserts anything of 
animals asserts it alike of all these creatures. Hence the thought 
activity of the weak thinker grows lame when thought reaches the 
sphere of high abstractions, and the necessity arises of attaching the 
universal to the particular, the rule to the example. (Longum est iter 
per praecepta, breve et efficax per exempla.) Thus the geometrician 
proves a theorem from a particular triangle drawn upon the board, 
which holds for every triangle, irrespective of how its sides and 
angles are constituted. Instead of the universal, we have here "one 
among the many" (Quilibet); instead of running through the whole 
series of notions which compose the extent of the general notion, a 
pause is made at one member of the series, no matter which. It is 
particularly the notions in natural history which are thought through 
typical individual images. 

Remark 2. — The psychological notion in contrast to the logical, 
has always about it something evanescent, indefinite, transitory; and 
since we think only in psychological notions we have here an expla- 
nation of the variability in the judgments and opinions of different 
men and times. Every man and every age has peculiar notions of 
the same things, and these notions are in a constant process of devel- 
opment, in that they change as the consciousness changes. The 
notions of the youth and the man are different, as are those of the 
child from either. The astronomer has a notion of the sun different 
from that of the former, just as the notion of virtue and of native 
land with Socrates differed from that of his accusers. 



§ 54. SPEECH AND THOUGHT. 

The condition for the formation of notions is the freeing 
of a concept from foreign elements of consciousness (I 52). 
This is brought about by giving a sign to the notion; that is, 
by connecting the notion with sense symbols. 

Individual notions have their peculiar sense symbols in 
the external things which answer to them; they exist not 
only subjectively in our minds, but also actually in the ex- 
ternal world. The visible thing is likewise the symbol of its 
own individual notion. This notion returns to us as often as 



146 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

we view the thing. Even here we perceive a language in 
which nature itself speaks to us. 

It is otherwise with general notions. Here the natural 
symbol is lacking, and must be devised through the process 
of culture. 

The object of the general notion is not a single thing, 
but a class of single things which belong together by virtue 
of a certain inner relation (similarity); as, for example, all 
trees, all men, all houses — but which, however, never occur 
together in the actual world, and are consequently not sub- 
ject to comprehension in any single act of 'observation. Their 
synthesis must be effected by the understanding, which 
relates the one to the other, and thereby arrives at the 
''extent" of the general notion, from which the latter arises 
through abstraction. (Compare I 53.) 

This relating of like to like for the sake of the formation 
of classes is greatly facilitated by the giving of names. The 
like name which every member of the class receives, for 
example, every fish, reproduces the whole class as soon as 
a single object is perceived, and therewith the general 
notion, with which the name is now inseparably fused. 

When the understanding of man has given a name to 
each general notion, e. g. , tree, house, man, he has thereby 
lent an outer existence to this notion; he recognizes every 
object to which the notion is appropriate as soon as the name 
of the notion is mentioned. Thus a botanist recognizes a 
plant by connecting it with its peculiar name. 1 ) 

Just as the noun is a sign of the notion, so the sentence 
is the expression of the judgment. As soon as the child 
begins to express judgments it begins to think. Since the 

1) Not as if knowledge lay in the name; for the pronunciation 
of the name furnishes no knowledge to him to whom the name is for- 
eign. The name is merely to express the likeness in kind of the given 
example with its plant class, and to remind us of all individuals 
which bear the same name. 



SPEECH AND THOUGHT. 147 

formation of general notions rests essentially upon judging, 
which makes content and extent clear by enumerating the ele- 
ments of the notion, it follows that language renders the most 
important service in making the notions clear and distinct. 
By means of language, knowledge and culture receive 
immense aids. Through tradition and writing the culture of 
the mature is transplanted to the minds of the young, and 
every generation connects its culture to the past, instead of 
beginning anew, for it assimilates the treasures of knowledge 
and experience of past generations. This treasure is mostly 
recorded in the literature of a people; that is, in the sum of 
the written monuments of its culture. Even in the 19th 
century, we partake of the culture of Greece and Rome. 

Remark 1. — The outer representative of the general notion is 
therefore, not the single thing which we perceive, but the name 
which we connect with it, and which calls up to consciousness the 
whole class. This is apparent as soon as one reflects that the same 
individual thing, e. g., a lion, belongs to the most widely differing 
classes, and hence may indicate the most various notions. For instance, 
the lion belongs to the classes: "beast of prey," "strong" "quad- 
ruped," etc. In this way abstract notions are formed, in that 
through the assigning of names, things are synthesized into a class 
which agree, not in the essential elements of the notion, but in other 
characteristics. If, for illustration, the lion is classed with the bear, 
with the waterfall, with the storm, with Hercules, with alcohol, etc., 
by ascribing the name "strong," to these objects, we come to the 
universal and abstract notion "strong." 

Remark 2. — Language in the narrower sense is the peculiar supe- 
riority of man, and the greatest vehicle of his culture. True, animals 
can communicate with one another, and possess to this extent a kind 
of language in the wider sense; but their signs are rather a natural 
expression of their momentary subjective states, comparable to the 
sign language of deaf mutes, but in no sense self-created symbols of 
general notions. Therefore, with them, however much they may 
show traces of a psychical activity, culture is not to be thought of; 
their psychical state is condemned to an eternal stand-still, whereas 
the race of man is capable of a constant development. 



148 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

I 55. THE RISE AND DEVELOPMENT OF LANGUAGE. 

The present oral language as a system of conventional 
(fixed by common consent) signs for the symbolizing of con- 
cepts, presupposes a natural language, by means of which 
men originally must have come to an understanding concern- 
ing the significance of conventional word symbols. 1 ) 

This natural language rests at first upon those pathogno- 
monic reflex movements which involuntarily accompany our 
mental states. Man in a state of nature receives impressions 
from without and reacts against them through movements. 
These movements spread themselves over his whole body and 
to all his limbs. ( Quot membra, tot linguae. ) Vocal reflec- 
tions are only a peculiar kind of the same thing, and often 
develop into oral speech. 

The various pathognomonic reflex movements become 
involuntary manifestations of the states of the soul, in that 
through them man gives expression to his inner state, even 
if he does not comprehend the purpose of the communication. 
"When another attends to these expressions in order to judge 
of the inner state, they become symbols. Thus, the cry of 
pain becomes a sign for pain; the gesture of anger, the cry 
of astonishment, etc. , become means of , communication for 
these states of the soul. Tones here stand upon a plane with 
facial expressions and gestures — natural oral language is a 
gesture language of the organs of speech. 

In this way natural man at first expresses pathognomon- 
ically his feelings and excitations. 3 ) To this class belong inter- 



1) "If language, according to its notion, is the designed com- 
munication of thoughts through arbitrary signs, it is impossible that 
the first communications should have been through language, for, 
arbitrary signs must be agreed upon, otherwise they would not be 
understood, or at most they could only be inferred; but the speaker 
cannot reckon upon inference merely" (Herbart Psych. \ 130). 

2) At this stage the word is a kind of instinctive motion, which 
makes its appearance with a natural necessity, upon an emotional 
excitation through external impressions. 



RISE AND DEVELOPMENT OF LANGUAGE. 149 

jections, which, as signs of reminder, have adhered to the 
original state of language; as, for example, ha! — ah! — 0! — 
alas! poh! And also the self-explanatory facial expressions 
and gestures, which, like laughing and crying, nodding and 
shaking the head (yes and no), shrugging the shoulders, 
repelling with the hand, beckoning, pointing, etc., have a 
significance apparent to all. 

But the reflex movements take on also the character of 
an imitation of what is seen and heard. x\t first only a 
phenomenon will be imitated in this way, but afterwards 
also the object itself from which the phenomenon arises. 
The exclamation " plump!" imitates by reflection the phe- 
nomenon of the heavy fall of an object; the onomatopoetic 
expressions : < ' Bow-wow ' ' — < ' meaw ' ' — < < baa ' ' — and the like, 
are designed to represent symbolically not only the mere 
phenomena, but also the objects themselves, the dog, the 
cat, the sheep. In the pathognomonic state we have to do 
with sound gestures; in the onomatopoetic, with sound 
symbols. 

Pathognomonic vocal gestures, and onomatopoetic vocal 
symbols probably effected, to a certain degree, the first com- 
munication between men in a primeval state, and doubtless 
furnished the means for a further perfection of oral language. 

As soon as associations were formed between certain 
concepts on the one side, and certain sounds on the other, 
whereby these sounds became symbols for the concepts, man 
gradually advanced to freer and freer associations between 
concept and sound symbol; *. e., to such associations between 
sound and concept as have no inner connection, and which 
arise, therefore, only by a gradual conventional connection 
of the two associated members. Thus, for the concepts of 
the house-dog, instead of the onomatopoetic expression, 
"Bow-wow," there arose in the various countries the vari- 
ous conventional symbols; for instance, "dog" (English), 



150 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

"Hund" (G-erman), "canis" (Latin), "lechien" (French), 
"pes" (Bohemian), etc. 

The free associations which lie at the basis of present 
oral language did not by any means arise arbitrarily, as, 
through the dictum of any great personality, but they arose 
rather by natural selection, — in the way indicated by Dar- 
win for the development of natural organisms. Just as the 
Arabians still possess six thousand words for the camel, two 
thousand for the horse, fifty for the lion, and two hundred 
for the snake, so in the formation of language there arose 
at the various points in the linguistic territory the most 
manifold linguistic symbols for every concept, which entered 
upon a "struggle for existence" (competition) with one 
another, until finally, for whatever reason, the present cur- 
rent name prevailed over the rival expressions, and arrived 
at general acceptance. 

Remark. — The outer speech form serves as an external sign for a 
certain concept content. This content itself, that is, that state of 
consciousness which comes to expression through the vocal sign, and 
which he who would understand the sign must call forth in himself, 
is called the inner speech form. In the life of the nations, the one 
as well as the other suffers manifold alterations, which are intimately 
connected with the changes in culture and with national fate. The 
same outer speech forms are filled with a varying content in the 
course of history. The word "virtue" and the word "sun" have now 
a meaning different from that ascribed to them in the middle ages; 
when the phenomenon of electricity was first observed in rubbing 
two pieces of amber together, the word "electricity" had another 
meaning than that of to-day — the inner speech form has changed. 
But also the outer speech forms which should serve to express the 
same thoughts have greatly changed in the course of time. If we 
compare the German of the Niebelungen Tales with the German of 
to-day, we are astonished at the changes which this language has 
undergone in its outer forms during the last six hundred years. 



DEVELOPMENT. 151 

I 56. THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE HUMAN UNDERSTAND- 
ING. 

The understanding is not an actual inborn faculty of the 
soul; it develops gradually rather, under certain conditions, 
and this development extends from earliest infancy to old 
age. Memory weakens with advancing age (2 38), and the 
imagination is dulled; the superiority of manhood and old age 
rests chiefly upon the constantly developing understanding. 

The following are the conditions for the development of 
the understanding: 

1. There must be material present upon which the under- 
standing can exert itself. This is furnished by the senses 
and memory, which together fix the bounds of experience. 
The more experienced a man is the more material is offered 
for the exercise of his power of judgment. 

2. If this matter of experience is to be brought into 
logical connection, there must be an inner movement induced, 
whereby that which is associated merely by time relations 
shall be released and replaced by new forms which answer 
to the content of the concepts. To accomplish this, imagi- 
nation is above all necessary. The lack of understanding in 
animals is due to the lack of free mobility of concepts; i. e., 
to the lack of imagination. 

3. Single concepts must be freed from the remainder of 
the matter of consciousness and raised to a high degree of 
clearness. To this end, attention is above all necessary. 
The greatest enemy to reflection is inattention, which allows 
the mind to skip from object to object. The melancholy 
temperament, which carries with it the least rush and the 
greatest strength of concepts, is the most favorable to 
thought. Necessity teaches us to think, since it fixes our 
attention persistently upon certain objects. 

4. For the higher culture of the understanding training 
and instruction are also necessary. Should each man seek 



152 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

the rational relations which obtain between the objects of 
experience through his own efforts alone, he would remain 
limited to individual facts, which are presented to him at the 
sport of accident as grains of truth in the sands of life. 
Training and instruction assist him here, for they present 
whole systems of rational relations. Such systems, on which 
the combined activity of numberless minds and whole gen- 
erations have labored, are sciences and doctrines. Their 
communication depends upon language as a means, which for 
this reason forms the first and most important subject of 
instruction. 

The development of the understanding is, therefore, not 
only a mere personal affair of the individual, it is the united 
labor of society and the race. The history of culture is the 
history of the human understanding, its deviations and its 
progress. Its end is the all-sided and masterly elaboration 
of the matter of experience by the understanding. 

Remark 1. — Wit, acuteness, and profundity serve as expressions 
of especial perfection of understanding. The perfection of a thought- 
product depends upon its distinctness and clearness, the first of which 
seeks to illuminate the notion internally by making prominent the 
content, the latter by distinguishing it from other notions. Wit 
relates to the distinctness of notions, and acuteness to their clear- 
ness. Wit leads to surprising combinations through the discovery of 
new associations, acuteness brings about new analysis of concepts by 
pointing out their distinguishing characteristics; the former proceeds 
according to similarities, the latter according to the dissimilarities of 
notions. Wit is creative, acuteness is critical; that is synthetical, 
this is analytical. Profundity stands as a higher grade of acuteness, 
and leads through the finest distinction of characteristics to the most 
hidden truths; but it may also degenerate into the most idle subtility. 

Remark 2. — We have an illustration of how limited the develop- 
ment of the human understanding is where education is lacking, in 
the condition of raw savages and of those men who have grown up 
in wildness. The result of such experiences tends to prove that, left 
to himself, man would rise but little above the animal, and that the 



FANCY. 153 

development of his understanding would reach only so far as neces- 
sity demanded. In a civilized state, it is not only the school that edu- 
cates us; it is society, with its rational institutions and forms, with 
its customs and laws, through which even that man is constantly 
educated in understanding who has no special trainer or teacher. The 
self-taught man in society is by no means such in an absolute sense. 

Remark 3. — The progress of the understanding in culture is 
already very great in the present phase of human history. It is con- 
ditioned by the increase of the matter of experience, as well as by a 
more intensive elaboration in consequence of the division of scientific 
labor; further, through a more active reciprocity of minds on account 
of increased communication, and by the discovery of new scientific 
methods, which have opened new roads to the scientific spirit. This 
progress is most noticeable in the natural sciences since the discovery 
of the inductive method. Nature becomes constantly more trans- 
parent to the understanding, and even her most terrifying elemental 
phenomena lose their terror, since they are exorcised by the under- 
standing, in the form of natural laws. 



§57. FANCY. 

Fancy proceeds from the union of the understanding 
and the imagination. (§ 39.) 

The imagination sets the concept masses in motion, and 
threatens to make a chaos out of them; then comes the 
understanding and subjects this movement process to its 
rule, in that it sets the logically constructed in place of the 
accidental associations of time. The concept masses and 
series enter into new combinations, viz. , into such as answer 
to the content of what is in consciousness. 

But the logical demands of thought never go so far that 
some freedom is not allowed to the imagination. The under- 
standing gives only the general idea — the closer determi- 
nation is left to the fancy. Thus, no single individual is given 
by the type of an animal or plant species; there must be added 
a considerable number of minor determinations, in order to 



154 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

give a special individual, e. g., "this rose." The addition of 
these lesser determinations is left to the painter, who repre- 
sents for us the universal type of the rose as a single example 
of the same. 

The true sphere of fancy is and must be art, and espe- 
cially free art, which, in giving individualization to the idea, 
is animated by no foreign purpose, but makes its task to be 
merely the representation of the idea in individual form. 

In art activity we have two stages to distinguish; first, 
the invention of the idea, and second, its representation. In 
order to reach the idea, one must take the way from the 
individual to the general; from the perception to the notion 
(for perceptions alone are given to us); in order to exhibit 
the idea individually, the idea must be led back to the per- 
ception. In the first the abstracting imagination is espe- 
cially active; in the second, the constructive imagination. 

Nature and life are the rich sources of artistic creation. 
Even in the freest kinds of art creation, in poetry and 
romance, the various elements are taken from life, and the 
more this is so, the more effective they are. But they are 
not copies, not photographs of life; for, the features there 
obtained must have experienced that transformation in con- 
sciousness which allows the ideal to be recognized in their 
individual exhibition, and which lends to the work of art the 
ethereal breath of poetry instead of the severity of reality. 

The gift of invention, which manifests itself on the one 
side as a derivation of the ideal from the particular, and on 
the other as an individualization of this ideal, rightly stands 
as the characteristic of genius. The activity of genius man- 
ifests itself in this — that it apprehends old notions in new 
forms, whether in the field of taste or in that of social and 
political life, and brings these forms to view, not in the form 
of abstract notions, but in a form appropriate to individual 
conditions. 



FANCY. 155 

Wit, also (2 56, Eemark 1), which brings entirely hetero- 
geneous concepts into relation, and seeks out their similar- 
ities, rests upon the activity of fancy. 

Remark 1. — Not only does fancy manifest itself in the true art 
activities — it comes to light in all cases where the design is externally 
to represent some object, or to execute some purpose, in a manner not 
slavishly fixed by rule. Fancy manifests itself in the various plays 
of children, also in games of skill, and in the labors of the art indus- 
try. 

Remark 2. — Hegel metaphorically defines art as "the shining of 
the idea through a sense medium," in which definition the immedi- 
ateness of the artistic creation is well characterized. Two things 
are here to be distinguished: the subjective thought, and the objec- 
tive sense medium, through which it is to be revealed, and which may 
be very manifold, (Color, tones, stones, words ) 



CHAPTER IV. 

SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 

I 58. THE EGO AS CONCEPT OF THE BODY. 

Self -consciousness is the concept of one's own ego. 

In the stage of childhood and of man in the state of 
nature, the body appears as the content of the ego-concept. 
When the child speaks of itself, it means its own body. 

This body is, however, originally known as an external 
thing, 1 ) and apprehended through a rich group of concepts 
which relate to it. Among these concepts belong not only 
the sense-perceptions, which are made by seeing and touch- 
ing the parts of the body, but also the numberless body sen- 
sations, which are projected upon the body and localized in 
its parts. 

But the body must very soon assume an exalted place 
among the cognitions of man. At first, through its peculiar 
sensitiveness, the changes in the condition of the body an- 
nounce themselves to us directly through the body-sensations, 
while of external things we have only indirect knowledge, — 
in so far as they affect our own body. As an inner thing, 
the body is, therefore, set over against outer things. 

The body is, further, the middle of our constant experi- 
ence in space. The space series, through which we deter- 
mine the position of things in space, all proceed outward 
from it; as soon as the body changes its place, all the dis- 

1) Therefore the child speaks of himself in the third person: 
Karl goes; Karl wants. 



THE EGO AS CONCEPT OF THE BODY. 157 

tances of external things from us are changed, whereas 
change of place in any external thing merely changes a single 
line of distance, the others not being altered in the least. 

Our own body is also distinguished from outer things, 
in that we have immediate control of it, because it is subor- 
dinated to the will through the organs of motion (2 25). The 
movements of the body follow the inner impulse immediately, 
whereas changes in external things made by design can be 
brought about only mediately; viz. , through the movements 
of the limbs. 

Finally, our own body is the starting point for all motions 
and actions whose peculiar quality and direction are brought 
to our consciousness through muscular sensations (2 18). 

The concept of our own body as a sensitive inner thing, 
voluntarily movable, which is at the same time the starting- 
point of our experience in space, as well as of motions and 
deeds, forms the content of self consciousness in its first, prim- 
itive stage. 

Remark. — To the body, as the first rough substrate of the ego- 
concept, are added gradually certain external things, partly because 
they relate closely to the body, as clothing, decoration, steed, equi- 
page , partly because they mediate the rule of the ego over the 

external world as powerfully as the limbs; thus, for instance, weapons 
and instruments. The soldier counts his gun, the rider his horse, 
the king his scepter and throne, among the attributes of personality; 
for, the muscles of the horse serve the rider as well as his own; and a 
good weapon is more powerful than the mightiest fist. — Hence 
in all ages the increase in the feeling of self with riders and armed 
men — hence the passion of seeking, through clothing, adornment, 
emblems of honor, etc., to give the body a greater external impor- 
tance, and even a greater extension. The use of buskins in the 
antique tragedy and the high heels of modern times — the love for 
expansive garments (crinolines and trails with ladies) — the use of 
high caps and hats as indications of higher worthiness — the sig- 
nificance of the staff as a continuation of the body in any desired 
direction (scepter, marshal's staff, musician's baton) — the many 



158 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

singular articles of the toilette with men and women — all of these 
things show the impulse to give the body a greater extension, 
partly in height, partly in breadth, and thereby to increase the 
respect for personality. 

Going still further, one may count with the body all those exter- 
nal things in the form of property over which man has the right of 
free disposition. Not only the physical strength, but also "means" 
(property), as the name indicates, is an attribute of personality; not 
only the weapon, but also the well-filled pocket-book lends to man a 
higher feeling of self, and the pauper, however robust he may be, 
appears meek beside the rich man. In a much more significant 
degree, however, is the intellectual possession to be regarded as an 
extension of personality, because a separation from the person is not 
so easily thinkable as with material goods. The poet regards his 
poems as the best part of his personality, and the painter calls his 
paintings "his," even when they have become the property of the 
dealer or the patron. 



I 59. THE EGO AS MEETING-PLACE OF CONCEPTS. 

Bodily sensations are localized within the body — sense- 
perceptions are projected in outer space. Color and tone are 
not regarded as concepts of the soul, ,but as attributes of 
things; we do not relate them to consciousness, but to objects 
in space, just as we appear to have the sensation of pain, not 
in the soul, but in the foot or the hand. 

The case is different, however, with reproductions, or 
concepts in the narrower sense, which we understand very 
well how to distinguish from direct sensations. Here we 
know very well that the inciting cause of the concept does 
not come from without; hence, the need of projecting the 
concept outwardly disappears. 

Yet we are compelled to ascribe some place to the things, 
which are thus merely pictured to the mind. Where are 
these things which I hold before my mind when I give free 



THE EGO AS MEETING-PLACE OF CONCEPTS. 159 

rein to my thoughts? Certainly not in the external world. 
These imaged things are in my head. 1 ) 

Since we relate our concepts to one another in accord- 
ance with the laws of simultaneity and succession, it follows 
that we unite them into concept masses and concept series. 
The series make connections from one group of concepts to 
another, in all directions, and thus form a concept texture, 
or web. The crossing points of this concept-texture form 
central and gathering places for our thought, which plays 
about here and there between them. The main series which 
proceed from these crossing points converge toward central 
places of a higher order, which again unite in a highest mid- 
dle point, or center. (Compare § 33, Remark 3.) In this 
way a universal relation of all concepts to one another is 
established — their centralization into the strictest unity is 
brought about, just as in a well ordered state the courts and 
official positions are organized. 

This central point of all concepts not expressly projected 
outward is, however, not real, or physically assignable, but 
is ideal; it is precisely the same as that from which direc- 
tions of projection and lines of distance proceed in all spatial 
observation. All our concepts press about this point, all 
concept series proceed from and return to it. This ideal 
point, which, in truth, is nothing more than an expression for 
the fact that all concepts are strictly related to one another, is 
the pure ego of man. 

Of this ego there is and can be no true definition or idea 
with a definite content, because an empty place, a mere 
gathering place for concepts excludes every determination. 
To the question, "Who art thou?" man can only answer, 



1) As is known, we can not distinguish the phantasms of the dream 
from sensations, and we project them in the same manner in outer 
space. The dream conjures up an external world for us which does 
not exist, and which upon waking we recognize to be merely an inner 
world. 



160 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

"I am who I am," and to this answer he may add the para- 
dox, "I should be the same, even though I were another." 

But since man must think something with definite con- 
tent if he is indeed to have a self-consciousness, to think his 
own ego, it is clear that he must fill this indefinite empty- 
middle point with definite concepts, — with such as moment- 
arily lie next to it, and which most fittingly serve as an 
expression of his ego. These are those concepts which are 
strongest, most significant, and most reinforced by others. 
To this class belong the concept of the body, also apperceiv- 
ing and favorite concepts. So the man bowed down by heavy 
fate cries out, "I, the miserable!"; the miser, "I, the rich 
man! " — and he who has committed the heavy deed of murder, 
cannot think of himself other than under the expression, < < I, 
the murderer!" 

Remark 1. — The fact of the ego as an unchanging middle point 
of our whole concept-life furnishes the ground of our knowledge of 
the simplicity or oneness of the soul (Comp. $ 1). Plato, true to his 
principle of the objective reality of the ideal, posited three particular 
souls for the three highest class notions of all mental activity: the 
knowing, the feeling, and the desiring, and located the first in the 
head, the second in the breast, and the third in the abdomen. 

Remark 2. — Simultaneous with the concept of the ego, is formed 
the concept of the "thou" as a foreign gathering place of concepts. 
Man notices that other beings perceive and think. He perceives this 
in their movements, which are guided by concepts of their environ- 
ment. When a being governs itself in accordance with the accidental 
changes of its environment, it appears as intelligent. In that we 
transfer the scheme of our own ego to this other being, it appears as 
a foreign ego, or as "thou." 

Remark 3. — However subdivided and however wide the world of 
the individual is, his ego remains always its middle point, the axis 
around which (but for him alone) the universe revolves. Each, the 
beggar even included, is a king in this world. The perceptions which 
he has are his perceptions; everything which he thinks, feels, desires, 



THE HISTORICAL EGO. 161 

and wills, is his spiritual possession. If anything is to have signifi- 
cance for him, it must become a part of his ego. Egotism, as the 
absolute positing of the ego, which would raise itself to the middle 
point of the world, is gradually broken by the oppositions against 
which it strikes. Man finds himself in a society of equally important 
personalities, for whom he is only what he^makes himself to be. 



3 60. THE HISTORICAL EGO. 

To the notion of the ego are connected a number of para- 
doxical ideas. All soul states belong to the content of the 
ego, and yet this content is dependent upon no particular 
one of these states. For this reason the ego appears in 
one respect as a changing somewhat, in another as some- 
thing constant; it is at once the richest and the poorest con- 
cept mass. 

The ego of man becomes another when his senses change, 
when serious accidents, sicknesses, etc. , touch him, when he 
alters his principles, his rank, his name; as, for instance, 
when a Saul becomes a Paul; a citizen, a nobleman; a man 
of the world, a man of God, or when by marriage a woman 
takes the name of her husband. But even the change of 
name — the most fundamental which can come to man, since 
the name is the outer representative of the abiding person- 
ality — is not able to annul the identity of the ego, before and 
after the change. The personality remains the same, how- 
ever great its revolutions may be. 

The ego which is dependent upon all the manifestations 
of soul life, and which constantly changes with them, is called 
the historical, or empirical ego of man. It compasses the 
whole life history of the ego. There is no event, no soul state 
which does not belong to this ego. This ego is, in strictness, 
a constant succession of egos which pass over the one into 



162 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

the other, and which answers to the individual epochs in the 
biography of the man. 1 ) 

(Fig. 10.) 






SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 

The pure ego of man is, on the contrary, independent of 
all these biographical determinations, for the man remains 
the same whatever occurs to him. This paradox, that from 
one point of view the ego appears dependent upon the indi- 
vidual states of the soul, and on the other not dependent, is 
solved by the remark, that though these many changing 
manifestations do belong to the content of the ego, yet, on 
account of their opposition, they reciprocally obscure one 
another (except individual traces) when brought together in 
the unity of consciousness, and leave behind nothing but 
empty crossing-points. 

The pure ego is, consequently, like the general notion, a 
common image, an abstraction of the highest type. Just as 

1) In reality, the ego of man changes from year to year, from day 
to day, from second to second. Every moment involves a psychical 
content peculiar to itself, which is united to the content of the 
ego as an addition, and, strictly speaking, every moment finds a dif- 
ferent ego with one and the same personality. When this is not the 
case, the health of the spiritual life is lost. Temporarily one, e. gr., 
an actor, can lose himself in another ego, he may regard himself as 
Napoleon or Alexander; so long as he perceives that he, who just 
now represented a king, is identical with him who was born of citizen 
parents in this or that place, and who has had to struggle with these 
or those life problems, so long does his mental soundness remain 
undisturbed; if, however, he can no longer remember all his former 
egos, which have in unbroken continuity passed over the one into the 
other, the actor becomes a monomaniac. 



THE HISTORICAL EGO. 163 

the general notion can be thought only through its extent 
(see diagram in I 53), so the pure ego can only be thought 
through those changeable, empirical egos, a, b, c, d . . . . , out 
of which the life-history of a particular personality is made. 

Remark 1. — Not even the total perception of the body remains 
the same in the course of life, in order to serve as the constant foun- 
dation of the ego concept. Anatomy shows us that in a period of 
perhaps seven years, our bodies are completely renewed in material, 
and independently of anatomy, the vital sensations teach the aged 
man very clearly that his body has no longer the sensitiveness of 
childhood or the energy of manhood. The more the physical sensi- 
tiveness decreases in age, so much the more does the self-conscious- 
ness of the aged man withdraw itself into the spiritual concepts, so 
much the more does the perishing ego approach its immortalization. 

Remark 2. — Not only in time succession, but also at one and the 
same time, may the ego of man appear as manifold, in so far as with 
him several historical fields of concepts are formed which group about 
centrifugally inclined middle points. Thus one as statesman, as 
writer, and as father of a family, may have a divided ego. It is always 
to be regarded as a very serious condition when these various egos of 
one and the same personality stand unmediated and unconnected by 
the universal human ego, as, for instance, when one as official, as 
Congressman, and as man manifests a different ego. (Compare "Dr. 
Jekyll and Mr. Hyde."— Tr.) 

Remark 3. — Where the division of the ego goes so far that the 
one ego is no longer related to the others, mental disturbances appear 
which assume the character of monomania. Since the concept of the 
body forms the middle point of the ego, such a far-reaching division or a 
transformation of the historical into an artificial ego is impossible, so 
long as the bodily basis of the ego concept is not removed by violent 
and lasting aberrations. But if through somatic causes the vital sen- 
sation is wholly changed, the historical ego may, in that the final 
basis for the identity of the self-consciousness disappears, suddenly 
change into an abnormal one. (Delirium tremens, somnambulism, 
clairvoyance). The historical ego here remains permanently obscured. 
If this could be reproduced through somatic change of tone or through 
direct physical influence, the patient would be cured. 



164 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY, 

I 61. "WE" AS SOCIAL EGO. 

Just as there is developed from the individual conscious- 
ness the ego as an expression of its unity, so a "we" is 
developed from the social consciousness. 

The social consciousness is formed wherever, in a plural- 
ity of physical person alities, there is a common stock of con- 
cepts, and a system of conditions whereby the concepts of one 
personality are able to enter into reciprocal action with those 
of the others. 

The various individuals forming the society must also 
come into physical relations and meet upon a common ground. 
For family associates this common ground is the home; for 
countrymen, the native land; for kindred races, the ethno- 
graphical territory of language; for man in general, the 
earth. The physical territory upon which the interaction of 
the social members occurs, together with all sense-peculiar- 
ities by which the social unity expresses itself externally 
(language, costume, customs, ceremonies), forms the social 
body, and is analogous to the physical body, which furnishes 
the basis for the ego concepts. 

But the notion of this body for the social ego, or "we," 
retreats more and more before the pure spiritual relations 
which exist between the members, without, however, ever 
coming to an entire elimination of this sense apparatus. 
Thus, members of families regard themselves as essentially 
one, because "the same blood" flows in their veins; fellow 
countrymen hold together by means of a national "we," 
because they have the same country, and hence the same circle 
of immediate sense perceptions; members of the same race 
see the same physical object of their unity in the language, 
also partly in like costumes, manners ; and customs; and the 
Catholic church, which is spread over such various nation- 
alities, preserves in the common worship, in the same means 



"WE" AS SOCIAL EGO. 165 

of grace, and the same church language, the symbols of the 
social "we" of its members. 

The social ego, or "we," of a community of men be- 
comes the more developed, the greater the compass of com- 
mon ideas and concerns is, and the more intimately through 
association, communication, and social precautions, the 
ideas in the individual social members enter into a reciprocal 
interaction, similar to that which the concepts assume in the 
consciousness of the individual man. The greater the num- 
ber of members, the more extended the social plane, and the 
smaller the reciprocal activity of the members, the less is 
the "we" of this society developed. 

The most intense "we" is found in the family, which 
has but few members, though held together by the most 
intimate reciprocity. Since the discovery of printing, where- 
by the circulation of spiritual products is made possible over 
the widest fields, and in particular on account of the spread 
of modern means of communication, which makes intercourse 
more and more intimate over the greatest distances, the 
national "we" has had an enormous development. 1 ) 

It is of great psychological significance to man that his 
individual self-consciousness extend to a social one. The 
ego of man manifests itself as power by actively exerting 
itself outwardly for the purpose of bringing external con- 
ditions into harmony with its inner intentions. 

In the measure, therefore, that the social ability becomes 
greater than that of the isolated man, does the social valu- 
ation of self rise, and inspire man to higher deeds. Nearly 
all great things which have been done proceeded in antiquity 



1) Most peculiar in this regard is the preservation of the Jewish 
nationality through the march of time, and in the widest geograph- 
ical distribution of this people. But the number of peculiarities per- 
ceivable by the senses in this religious nationality is also very great, 
and they are in sharp contrast with the prevalent conditions and cus- 
toms lying outside of the Jewish people. 



166 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

from the political, in the middle ages from the religious, and 
in modern times from the national self-consciousness. 

The highest extension of self-consciousness is seen where 
it elevates itself to the notion of humanity, through the 
development of the purely human "we." 

Remark 1. — The family, which to woman is a whole world, 
becomes in time too small in order to satisfy the strivings of the man. 
He seeks to unite himself to a greater whole — state, church, nation — 
for this to think, to feel, to do. He thereby enters a wider circle of 
associates in opinion, in destiny, in party, in moral views, which are 
united together into a higher moral person through a common "we." 
"We Germans" — "We Americans" — "We Slavs" — "We Austrians" — 
"We Catholics" — whoever speaks and thinks identifies himself with 
a greater whole. The fate of the nation is, then, his fate; its mighty 
deeds, its history, its future, he makes a part of himself. In the 
monumental structures which the national consciousness has created, 
in the churches, theaters, industrial palaces, parliament houses, he 
moves as in a family inheritance. Still more is this national self-con- 
sciousness exalted when it is supported by knowledge and study of a 
rich national literature. 

Remark 2. — As there is a social self-consciousness, so there is a 
psychology of society (social psychology) — a science on whose devel- 
opment men are now working, though Herbart has laid its foundation. 
The author has developed the main lines of this science in a work 
entitled, "Ideas of the Psychology of Society as a basis for Social 
Sciences," Vienna, 1871. (Ideen zur Psyclwlogie der Gesellschaft als 
Grundlage der Social wissenschaft. ) 



I 62. THE INNER SENSE. 

When man has once arrived at the consciousness of self, 
the impulse is at hand to relate these changing inner states 
to his own ego, and thus at the same time to perceive in- 
wardly. In this way self-consciousness assumes the form of 
an inner sense. 



THE INNER SENSE. 167 

There are psychical states which proceed without the 
slightest trace of an inner sense activity. The ego here 
yields itself to its object of thought with such objectivity and 
exclusiveness that it entirely forgets itself, and therefore 
experiences its own concepts without any relation to self. 
When we experience something entirely new, when we are 
absorbed with pure objectivity in a scientific problem, or in 
labor or play, when we are quiet observers of a drama, or 
attend a trial as a witness, we receive the external impres- 
sions with complete self renunciation. The infant and the 
animal are not able to rise above this objective surrender to 
the individual states of consciousness. 

But it is very easy for him who has arrived at self-con- 
sciousness to remember himself and to relate the states of 
his consciousness to his own ego. 

These states are rarely so new and strange that they 
do not accord with the former experiences of the soul life — 
the remembrance of older lines of thought is awakened, and 
because these belong to the content of the ego, the concept 
of this latter is reproduced. If, however, the ego is in con- 
sciousness, these younger and weaker entering concepts find 
themselves set over against a concept mass which is undoubt- 
edly the oldest and strongest of all. Here we have the con- 
ditions of apperception given. The new concepts lose their 
independence and are assimilated by the ego-concept. This 
assimilation takes place in the form of the judgment. The 
newly arising mental state, A, is the subject; the predicate 
assigned to it, is the thought that this mental state belongs to 
our ego. Thereby the judgment is formed: "A is mine. " 
So long as the self-consciousness is active, all states of con- 
sciousness are accompanied by this predicate "mine. " 

Though the name inner sense has been chosen for this 
process, this metaphor of language should not be taken as an 
actual analogy between the inner and the outer sense. The 



168 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

activity of the outer sense is an original one, that of the 
inner mostly derived and mediated through other states of 
the mind; there we have a real sense organ, here there is 
none; there we have a perception, here a judgment; there 
the act is one of perception, here of apperception. 

Remark 1. — Where divisions occur in the ego, in that different 
ruling fields of thought appear as different egos, the division will 
also be extended to the apperception of individual mental states 
through the activity of the inner sense; what is accepted by the one 
ego is rejected by the other. The marshal Manlius judges otherwise 
than the father Manlius, and to this day many come into the position 
of pronouncing sentence of death as judge when as man they would 
have pardoned. In drunkenness, in passion, man commits deeds of 
which he is afterwards ashamed, but shame is nothing more than the 
feeling of self-humiliation in consequence of the conflict in self -con- 
sciousness. Animals have no shame; with children it manifests itself 
with the awakening self-consciousness. 

Remark 2. — Self-consciousness and inner sense go hand in hand 
in their development. The inner sense is not thinkable without the 
awakened ego concept, and this again can not be formed without 
the relating of the scattered elements of mental life to a common 
middle point through the inner sense activity. The strict expression 
of self-consciousness is that inner-sense activity where not any acci- 
dental mental state, but the ego as such is related to itself. Thereby 
arises the judgment in which the ego is at the same time subject 
and predicate, and in which the threatened separation in the ego- 
concept is avoided — the identical judgment, "I am I." 



PART II. 
THE FEELINGS. 



CHAPTER I. 
I 63. HOW FEELINGS ARISE. 

The states of our consciousness are in a continual flux. 
New concepts constantly enter it, displacing the old; but the 
latter do not yield without exerting an opposition which 
depends upon their own strength or intensity, and upon the 
strength of their reinforcing or assisting concepts. 

Therefore, there arises in our consciousness a constant 
arrest and furthering. If these are weak and transitory, 
they pass unnoticed. The forgetting of a name or the recog- 
nition of a person passes without further ceremony. 

But where a concept mass or concept series which was 
originally in the act of arising into consciousness is suddenly 
restrained or suppressed by an opposition, X, the concepts 
will resist the arrest which they are about to suffer, and 
thereby bring this arresting process to consciousness. The 
thought process now finds itself compressed between two 
opposing forces; i. e., between the concepts which arrest and 
those which further the movement of thought. Resistance to 
arrest gives rise to a feeling, and, more precisely, to a feel- 
ing of pain. If the arrest is wholly or partially removed, 
in that the opposition is overcome by the furthering concepts, 
there arises a sudden furthering or promotion of the thought 



170 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

movement, which we become conscious of as a feeling of 
pleasure. 

This is made more graphic by the following scheme: 

(Fig. 11.) 
IV 



M 

A — Seat of feeling. 
M — Furthering concepts. 
N — Arresting concepts. 
I. N > M: Arrest, pressure, pain. 
II. M > N: Furthering, removal of pressure, pleasure. 

A feeling is, therefore, the consciousness of a furthering 
or an arrest of the movement of thought: when a furthering, 
a feeling of pleasure; when an arrest, a, feeling of pain. 

The life of the soul is a concept life; every furthering 
of concepts is at the same time a promotion of the life activity 
of the soul; every arrest of concepts is also an arrest of soul 
life. Feeling can, therefore, also be denned as the con- 
sciousness of the rising or sinking of the real life-activity 
of the soul. 1 ) 



1) Rising and sinking, however, presuppose a certain level, from 
which they may be measured upon opposite sides. The level will be 
that mean average of strength and intensity of concepts above and 
below which the thought process fluctuates during a certain time, as 
a river is gauged by its middle stage of water. The mean average is 
different for different persons, and is subject to significant variations 
in one and the same individual, according to time and circumstances 
influencing the state of feeling. 



HOW FEELINGS ARISE. 171 

Remark 1. — Examples will make this clear. My friend has died, 
and the concepts associated with this event produce in me the feeling 
of pain. The image of the friend as living is supported by a multi- 
tude of suggesting concepts (everything which reminds me of my 
friend; all events, conversations, common opinions, and purposes 
which unite me to him belong here), and at the same time arrested by 
a mighty opposition, which can not be thought away; tbat is, by the 
idea of my friend as dead, by a conviction of his death which can not 
be shaken off. Here the opposing concept prevails over the train of 
associates, hence a feeling of pain. Could this opposition be removed, 
could, for example, this friend become alive again, this feeling of 
pain would be transformed into one of pleasure or joy. 

Remark 2. — Since arrest and furthering constantly take place in 
our consciousness, in that ideas constantly come and go, we ought in 
reality to experience feelings constantly. The most of them are too 
weak, however, to make themselves individually felt in consciousness. 
But in their totality they do make themselves felt, since they create 
an obscure totality of feeling as the result of the individual checkings 
and furtherings occurring singly in consciousness; thisfeeling,because 
inseparably united with the course of the soul's life, is called the life 
feeling. Since under normal conditions the furthering, or realization 
of self, predominates over its retardation, or arrest, the life feeling 
is in general one of pleasure, and life must be regarded as a positive 
good, despite all pessimistic views. 1) 

Remark 3. — Feeling is often confused with sensation. The two 
are different; for, 1) Sensations are original, feelings, derived states 
of the soul; 2) Sensations bring to consciousness states of the body, 
but feelings states of the soul. Hence vital feeling must not be con- 
founded with vital sensation though the two are closely related; for, 
the vital sensation is only the result of the increase or decrease of 
mind activity in which the organic body-sensations are concerned, 
whereas the vital feeling is the effect of all concepts present to con- 
sciousness. 



1) Compare in this connection my "Problem of Happiness," 
("Problem des Gliicks") chapter II., "The Pleasure of Existence." 



172 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

I 64. CONTENT, TONE, STRENGTH, AND DURATION OF 

FEELINGS. 

We may distinguish in feelings, content, tone, strength, 
and duration. 

In themselves, feelings are obscure subjective states, to 
which in reality a qualitatively determined content can not 
be ascribed, except in so far as this is borrowed from the 
concepts which are the seat of the feeling. But this is not 
always possible, since there are feelings which arise, not from 
a few distinct concepts, but from many obscure ones (2 66). 
Only a few feelings can, as to their content, be precisely 
analyzed. 

The special characteristic of feeling is its tone, whereby 
it announces itself to our consciousness either as a feeling of 
pleasure or of pain. 

A feeling of pleasure arises in consequence of every 
change of consciousness whereby the degree of ruling ten- 
sion (reciprocal arrest) between the concepts is lessened, and 
consequently the mental activity temporarily promoted, even 
though but partially; a feeling of pain, on the contrary, 
arises in consequence of every movement of concepts whereby 
their degree of tension is increased, thus decreasing the quan- 
tity of mental activity. 

Since the mental activity of the soul is of limited mag- 
nitude, its increase is only possible up to a certain point. If 
this point is once reached, a diminution of the same must 
occur, which, if suddenly suffered, announces itself subjec- 
tively through a feeling of pain. 1 ) 

1) Hence arises the fact, fully confirmed by experience, that in 
our mental life feelings of pain and pleasure must alternate. Sudden 
elevations of mental activity may here be followed by just as exces- 
sive depressions, as we perceive in the case of passions and surprises 
in feeling — or gradual subsidence and unimportant oscillations of 
mental activity may follow its gradually reached exaltations, as we 
see when intense activity alternates with rest, and the mind is free 
from violent agitations. 



FEELINGS AND CONCEPTS. 173 

The intensity of feeling depends upon the liveliness of 
promotion and repression, hence upon the intensity of oppos- 
ing and furthering concepts. (M and N in the diagram of 
the preceding section.) The most intense feelings arise 
when the most numerous and most powerful furthering con- 
cepts meet with the most numerous and most powerful oppos- 
ing concepts. They arise from the furthering and arrest of 
concepts which spring from impressions of sense or in exten- 
sive and intricately interwoven groups of concepts. The 
liveliness of the furthering is dependent upon the intensity 
of the arrest which precedes it, so that within the period of 
our mental life on earth there can be no unceasing and un- 
clouded joy. 

The duration of feeling depends upon the continuation 
of the concepts as unimpaired in strength. Sensations are 
indeed very intense, but their power ceases with the sense 
impression; hence, the transient nature of sentient joy or 
sorrow depending upon them. Much more lasting are those 
feelings which have their seat, not in immediate sense im- 
pressions, but in extensive, widely branching, and deeply 
involved groups of concepts. Such feelings can only fade, 
as "in time" these concept groups have lost their power. 

Remark. — Pleasure and pain are relative. Diminished pleasure 
may be felt as pain, and lessened pain as pleasure. An event which 
to-day gives me joy, may leave me indifferent to-morrow. It is not 
the absolute exaltation or depression, but the relation which deter- 
mines the degree of intensity in feeling. In this way are to be 
explained the illusions which occur in reference to the valuation of 
external objects, in so far as they appear as vehicles of certain feel- 
ings of pleasure. A gift of a hundred dollars produces a different 
effect, according as the recipient is rich or poor. (§ 16. Eemark 3.) 



174 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

I 65. FEELINGS AND CONCEPTS. 

Feeling is not an isolated activity of the soul; the feel- 
ings exist in and with concepts, and apart from concepts are 
nothing. Every feeling has its seat in a concept mass, so that 
it always arises whenever the elements of that concept mass 
meet in consciousness. Thus, the grief for a lost friend 
returns as often as we are reminded of him. 

Since feelings depend upon concepts, so, likewise, do 
they share the fate of the same. There is a reproduction 
of feelings in and with the reproduction of concepts; one 
may even speak of a memory and imagination of feelings. 
Here, however, the peculiar fact is observed that reproduced 
feelings are far inferior to the original in intensity; for, the 
intensity of feeling is essentially dependent upon the power 
manifested by the concepts, and this in reproductions is 
incomparably less than in the original concepts. We have 
only a brief and feeble memory for feelings. The mental 
pain, like the physical, loses its sting when the first impres- 
sion has passed, and the concepts which have effected its 
tension return only as reproductions. Time heals all wounds, 
for it gradually lessens the mental tension by gradual changes 
in consciousness. 

The imagination is a fruitful source of feelings. It en- 
compasses things with a peculiar coloring of emotion by 
means of the minor concepts which are connected with them, 
so that these things affect us, now as agreeable and inspiring, 
now as repulsive and depressing. A glade in a forest, a 
simple crucifix in the still loneliness of the woods, a grave- 
yard, a place of execution, a ruin, inspire peculiar feelings. 

The understanding quiets our concepts, since it seeks to 
bring them out of their often intense combinations into those 
conditions which answer to the content of what is thought, 
and to substitute natural solution for unnatural tension. 
Reason is the universal extinguisher of feeling, particularly 



CLASSIFICATION OF FEELINGS. 175 

when violent; with its logic it seeks to lessen our pain by- 
showing its insignificance or its inevitableness. 1 ) 

If on the one side the reason forms the corrective for 
the overflow of the heart, it is on the other the fountain and 
creator of those quieter and nobler joys which spring from 
insight into the harmony and design of the world of thought. 
The creations of fancy in the realm of the beautiful and of 
art are mediated by the activity of the understanding, or at 
least subordinated to its rules. 3 ) 

Remark. — The manifestations of feeling are also dependent upon 
the rhythm of the concepts according to which they come and go in 
consciousness. The quicker rhythm, as observed in sanguinary tem- 
peraments, in children and in the female sex, to whom good humor 
and a happy frame of mind are natural, carries with it a light wave 
of feeling in which freedom predominates over tension, and conse- 
quently pleasurable over painful feelings. The opposite is seen in 
the more retarded rhythm, as found in the melancholy temperament, 
and in the age of manhood, as well as in states of depression and 
sadness. Everything which accelerates the rate of our flow of repre- 
sentation, as, for example, lively music, the light conversation of an 
affable companion, the yielding of the mind to the changeful scenes 
of an external comedy, produces an enlivening effect upon our mind, 
whereas the unchanging absorption in one's own concept masses with 
the exclusion of every diversion from without, is the characteristic 
expression of sadness. The grieving Niobe petrified in her pain. 



I 66. CLASSIFICATION OF FEELINGS. 

The manifoldness of feelings is very great, since every 
movement of concepts is accompanied by the excitation of 

1) Every pain loses its sting as soon as it is logically analyzed. 
Says a gifted writer, "I have never known an evil which could 
not be made endurable by a half hour's reflection." If it were possi- 
ble to make a mental analysis of physical pain, it would certainly be 
easier to bear. 

2) In the creation of works of art, even if genius should not be 
conscious of the limitation of rules, yet approval of the beautiful 
rests essentially upon their observance, and the art critic applies them 
in passing judgment upon works of art under all circumstances. 



176 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

feeling. Apart from the division into feelings of pleasure 
and pain, which occur as subdivisions with every kind of 
feeling, one may in general classify the feelings according to 
the concepts in which they have their seat. 

Feelings may have their source in general conditions of 
conscious?iess or in particular, definite concepts. In the first 
they are called universal or vague; in the second definite, or 
ready feelings. The universal feelings are diffused over a 
large and mostly undefined field of concepts, — the definite 
feelings, on the other hand, arise from definite, sharply de- 
fined concept masses, which are brought into relief against 
the general background of consciousness. The univer- 
sal feelings bear a formal, subjective, obscure character, 
while the definite are of a clear, objective, and qualitative 
type. 

The vaguest and most universal of the feelings is tire 
" vital* feeling," because it is the effect of the whole number 
of concepts streaming through consciousness. 

This boundary line is, moreover, not a sharp one. In 
actual mental life a universal feeling is at once transformed 
into a definite one, when in the stream of concepts any one 
is raised to a certain degree of clearness, thereby becoming 
the middle-point of the whole. The feeling of apprehension 
is certainly universal; yet it assumes a definite character 
when I become clearly conscious of the real cause of my un- 
easiness. Just so, my general feeling of pleasure in good 
order which arises upon my entrance into a well-ordered 
house, passes over into definite feelings as soon as I turn my 
attention to the individual articles of the household, — the 
vague feeling of hope becomes, under certain circumstances, 
an expectation of some particular event. 

Another division is that of lower and higher feelings, 
according as the mental activity upon which the feeling rests, 
proceeds without the mediation of intelligence or with it. 



FORMAL FEELINGS. 177 

The universal or vague feelings belong almost entirely 
to the lower kind, since, having their root in an indefinitely 
large number of concepts, they elude logical analysis, and 
vanish mostly without our aid. 

With the definite feelings, the higher must be expressly 
distinguished from the lower. The, former rest mainly upon 
concepts which have been sifted by understanding and reason, 
whereas the latter have their seat more in sensations and 
reproductions. 

To the higher feelings belong in particular those con- 
nected with concepts of the true, the beautiful, and the good; 
then with concepts about God, the ego, and the relations 
between me and thee. 



I 67. THE UNIVERSAL, OR FORMAL FEELINGS. 

The most universal form of feeling is the arrest and 
furthering of concepts, a process which may also be regarded 
from the standpoints of tension and relaxation, diminution 
and increase, depression and elevation of mental activity. 

The universal feelings rest upon certain modifications of 
this process arising from the accession of more immediate 
circumstances. These modifications, to which the various 
kinds of universal feelings correspond, are: 

1. Retardation and acceleration as modification of the 
rhythmic movement of concepts. Music, dancing, conver- 
sation, play, may bring about an acceleration; monotony, 
darkness, stillness, idleness, a retardation. The former are 
associated with pleasure; the latter, with pain. The same 
actions or states may appear as, 

2. Oppression and relief, the first being brought about 
by the rush and arrest of many concepts meeting in con- 
sciousness; the second, by the removal of the pressure; a 



178 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

retardation of the tension being produced by the entrance 
of decisive apperceiving concepts. Related to this are, 

3. Exertion and overcoming as difficulty and ease in bring- 
ing about the release. If by means of a problem, a predica- 
ment, a lecture, and the like, more is assigned to us than we 
can do, at least for the moment, we have the painful feeling 
of severe exertion. If we succeed, however, in finding the 
solution by a reference of the new to the old (apperception), 
and in turning our thought into its accustomed channels, we 
have the pleasurable feeling of ease. All our customary 
actions are performed with the sense of ease. In connection 
with these activities we have, then, 

4. The sense of power and of helplessness as the feeling 
of superabundance or lack of personal capacity, according as 
the solution of the problem before us is performed with ease 
or with difficulty. In these feelings vital sensation has an 
important part, since power is originally merely physical, 
and a feeling of power is conditioned by the presence of a 
certain degree of bodily health 1 ). With this are connected, 

5. The feelings of labor, of recreation, and of play. The 
feeling of labor is a painful one, which arises in consequence 
of the continuous pressure of one and the same mass of labor 
concepts, and is painful in proportion as the labor is offensive 
to us, that is, the more these concepts stand in opposition 
to our ruling ones. 

The pleasure of recreation is characterized by the throw- 
ing off of labor, in which the labor concepts are made to 
yield. Play is connected with pleasurable feelings because 
one busies himself with things only so long as they please, 
and have no trace of labor. 

6. Agreement and strife, confusion and order, reflection 
and investigation, are universal feelings of a similar kind, 



1) The pleasure found in riding, scuffling, wrestling and boxing, 
is to be explained through this increase in the feeling of power. 



SENSUOUS FEELINGS, 179 

which in a certain sense form the transition to the higher, or 
intellectual feelings and which rest essentially upon the logical 
quality of our consciousness, whereby order is more pleasing 
to us than confusion, agreement than strife. 

The above named feelings deserve the name universal, 
since they are independent of a special content in the con- 
cepts. 

Remark — The feelings of labor and recreation are especially 
important, since our whole life is bound up in the rhythm between 
the two. During the time of labor there is a certain ruling mass of 
concepts in the soul of the laborer which involves in itself the idea of 
the end desired, and of the means to this end. This mass of labor 
concepts rules the consciousness more or less during the time of labor, 
and therefore exercises an increasing pressure upon the other con- 
cepts which press into the consciousness of the laborer, and which 
pertain to other pursuits, interests, and lines of thought. If the labor 
is laid aside, its accompanying concepts retire and others take their 
place — the man rests. This recreation, which consists in freedom 
from the burden of labor, is merely negative, mere relaxation; should 
this continue long, the emptiness which it implies would bring about 
a retardation of the course of thought, which would be as oppressive 
as the labor was. For this reason a positive recreation must be sought, 
which brings new concept masses to consciousness, but which will 
exercise no oppression upon the mind, because of their change. Plays 
especially attract us on account of their manifold variety of situa- 
tions. Entertainment seeks to free us from the monotony of ennui 
by means of sports, of spontaneous, enlivening conversation, of par- 
ticipation in light games, festivities, or through giving the mind up 
to the enjoyment of art, etc. As unconstrained employment it is the 
opposite of labor, which is never free from a certain element of con- 
straint. 

i 68. SENSUOUS FEELINGS. 

To the definite, or particular feelings of the lower class 
belong first of all the feelings which are connected with the 
various sensations, and which may be called the sensuous 
feelings. 



180 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

Those sensations of the lower senses which have posi- 
tive tone, as well as the body-sensations, are reflected in our 
consciousness as obscure sense feelings. l ) The pleasures of 
the gormand do not rest alone upon sensations of taste, but 
also upon feelings which precede, accompany, and follow the 
sense impression. The variations of the vital sensations have 
a strong influence upon our feelings. 

But those sensations of the higher senses having the 
most positive tone, as those of color and sound, are in them- 
selves accompanied by sensuous feelings. In order properly 
to appreciate the specific effect of these feelings which even 
the various colors and sounds arouse in the mind, we must 
abstract from all aesthetic impressions, which belong to the 
higher realms of feeling; and, farther, from all accessory feel- 
ings which arise through reproductions. 

The pleasure in the sense of sight reveals itself in the 
pleasure we take in light and color, while darkness and imper- 
fect colors, by which we understand all dim, unsatisfactory, 
confused impressions of color, are accompanied by unpleas- 
ant feelings. The moderate light of day, the mild light of 
the full moon, the soft light of the heavens, also the fires of 
celebration upon the hills (Johannis Feicer), the gleam of illu- 
minations, the splendor of fireworks, awaken in man the 
pleasure in light, whereas the darkness of the night and of 
the prison cell lies heavy upon the soul. 

From the pleasure arising from light in general, we must 
distinguish the specific impression which individual, full, rich 
colors produce upon the mind, and whose importance Goethe 



1) It is not here asserted that the sensuous feeling is identical 
with the "tone of the sensation," as is sometimes assumed. The sen- 
suous feeling proceeds from the sensation having tone, and shares 
with it the characteristic obscurity and essentially also the same tone. 
But at the same time it is separable from the sensation and may assume 
the opposite tone. There are moments when even wounds do not 
pain, and there are others when the best of wine is not peasant to 
the taste. The sensation is present, but the feeling is not. 



SENSUOUS FEELINGS. 181 

has pointed out in his theory of colors. Physically, this 
impression is dependent upon the wave-length and the inten- 
sity of the prevailing homogeneous light which produces it — 
physiologically, upon the individual and momentary state of 
the optic nerves, and the relation of this state to the quanti- 
tative and qualitative light stimulus — psychologically, upon 
the numberless obscure minor concepts which in accordance 
with experience have become associated with the various 
colors. "The clear, bright, cheerful, charming quality" 
which is ascribed to yellow stands in evident connection with 
its medium length of wave and its great intensity of light. 

The special energy and power of excitation which are 
ascribed to red, and which even excite the turkey cock, cor- 
respond to the maximum wave-length belonging to this color, 
aside from the fact that red is the color of fire and of blood. 
Blue, standing as the opposite end of the spectrum, is char- 
acterized by the opposite qualities 1 ). Yet a wide realm is 
open to the imagination regarding the specific effect of color, 
which is fondly explored by poets and even by mystics. 

Tone, like color, affects our sensibilities. The pleasure 
in light and color is analogous to that in tone and sound. 
Stillness depresses like darkness, because it retards the course 
of our representation; full, pure, prolonged tones affect us 
like full, rich colors. With regard to the special effect of 
sound, the high tones appear analogous to bright colors and 
deep tones to dark colors. How indescribably peculiar the 



1) Habit, remembrance, and even fashion may here contribute 
much. The fashion of the times, answering to the blase condition of 
so many people, turns from the full colors, in the toilette, toward 
defective colors, in particular toward gray, black, and mixed colors, 
The man who, being born blind, receives his eyesight through an 
operation, hates black because it reminds him of his former night. 
Hof bauer's patient of this kind had the greatest pleasure in the red of 
the rose. The rose bushes in the garden where his bands were first 
removed were in full bloom, and the red of the rose gave the first 
greeting of light to his eyes. (Compare the attractive exposition in 
Nahlowsky's "Gefuhlsleben.") 



182 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

effect of tone is upon the mind, is proved by the impression 
which the human voice, by means of mere intonation, aside 
from other aesthetic or spiritual factors, is able under certain 
circumstances to exert upon us. 

Remark 1.— Regarding the subjective effect of color, Goethe's 
theory of color is not yet antiquated. In order to investigate this 
effect, one must, with Goethe, surround himself with a single color, 
remain in a room of one color or look only through colored, glasses. 
Then one identifies himself entirely with this color; eye and mind 
are thereby brought into unison. There is a plus and a minus side 
upon Goethe's scale of colors. The positive colors, yellow, orange, 
vermilion, attune to activity, liveliness, endeavor; the negative 
colors, blue, violet, and purple, attune us to quiet, gentleness, longing. 
In the middle stands the green, which is indifferent. 

Remark 2. — Professor Nahlowsky has sought to place the timbre 
or tone-color of sounds parallel with the color of light. According to 
him the clear sound of the reed pipe corresponds to yellow; the flute 
tones coming from afar, to sky blue; the sharper, more penetrating 
tone of the piccolo, to orange; the hautboy, especially fitted to express 
yearning, to violet; the inspiring trumpet, to bright red; the majestic 
sounding trombone, to purple; the silencing tone of the forest horn, 
to indifferent green (Compare "Das Gefuhlsleben" by Nahlowsky.) 



\ 69. OTHER LOWER FEELINGS. 

A second group of special feelings of the lower order 
arises from the interaction of sensations and reproductions. 

The simplest example of this is the feeling of pleasure 
in the recognition of an object. The sense-perception is inten- 
sified by the corresponding reproduced concept of the object, 
and this activity becomes noticeable as the pleasure of recog- 
nition. When amid a crowd of strangers we meet a familiar 
face, or in a strange neighborhood we come upon a well-known 
path, we have this feeling. M 

1) This feeling is noticeable in animals; for instance* the joy of 
the dog at the recognition of his master. 



OTHER LOWER FEELINGS. 183 

Closely related are the feelings of expectation, and the 
occurrence of an expected event. Expectation is the antici- 
pation of a future event on the part of the imagination, which 
hastens on before it. The reproduced concept of the future 
event is intensified by a number of furthering concepts, or 
arrested by the opposing perception of the reality, for the 
result is not yet come to pass. Since these furthering con- 
cepts oppose the arrest, expectation is associated with feel- 
ings of pain. The concept of the expected result is constantly 
furthered by the helping concepts, only to be again arrested 
by opposing ones. Thus, he who awaits an event con- 
stantly rolls up the stone of Sisyphus, which as constantly 
rolls back again. The curtain in a theater should rise, but 
it does not; the train should arrive at the depot, but still its 
approach is not heard; the eclipse of the sun should begin, 
but the face of the sun is not darkened. As soon as the 
expected event does occur, actuality and expectation coincide, 
and from this coincidence of the two proceeds the feeling of 
pleasure. 

Analogous to the above are the feelings arising from 
searching and finding; only here the object is not passively 
awaited, but is actively sought through all manner of actions, 
so that the oppressive feeling of ennui which accompanies 
expectation is avoided. 

Where the desired result is an activity, the feelings of 
success or of failure arise. The activity is here mediated by 
a concept series, which mirrors beforehand the various stages 
of the activity, and whose final member is the concept of the 
result to be brought about. If, now, the individual stages 
of the concept series correspond to the actually progressing 
activity, and especially to the final result, we have the pleas- 
ure of success, which accompanies the skillful laborer as well 
as the skillful player. But if concept and result do not cor- 
respond, we have the depressing sense of failure. Hence 



184 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

the interest in games of skill (billiards, sharpshooting, hunt- 
ing); hence, also, the moral recompense which productive 
labor, whatever it may be, brings to the active worker. 

The given illustrations are only examples of the num- 
berless special feelings which arise from the interaction of 
sensations and reproductions in the course of our mental life. 
An exhaustive classification of them is hardly conceivable, 
since feelings may be associated with every combination of 
simultaneous concepts. 



I 70. HIGHER FEELINGS. 

Higher feelings have this peculiarity, that they depend 
not so much upon the subjective state of mind, as upon the 
valid and necessary quality of what is felt. Here, therefore, 
we may point out the objects to which they relate, as well as 
distinguish the special content of the feelings. Such objects 
are above all the true, the good, and the beautiful (then, 
also, our own ego and other egos). 

The possibility of such feelings rests upon the fact that 
there are objects which are compounded, and whose parts 
have such a harmonious or unharmonious relation to one 
another that one needs only to give himself up freely to their 
apprehension in order to experience a furthering or an arrest 
of mental activity. Man's consciousness is of course the 
theater of these feelings; but the furthering or checking con- 
cepts involved do not come together by accident, but are 
rather already given with the object in their harmonious or 
inharmonious relations, without the need of any subjective 
contribution. 

Such an object we find in truth, with its antitheses 
falsehood and doubt, which together form the object of the 
intellectual feelings of pleasure or pain. Truth is the agree- 



HIGIIER FEELINGS, 185 

ment of all our knowledge with itself, the parts with the whole, 
the subjects with their predicates. This agreement is not 
only known through the understanding, but is felt as pleas- 
ure in the truth. The further we advance within the borders 
of truth, the more does this feeling appear as pleasure in 
investigation. But on the contrary, where we fall into con- 
tradictions with our notions, out of which we see no way; 
where we see unsolved problems before us, or where the objects 
of our inmost conviction are doubted or denied, there we 
shall not fail to find intellectual feelings of pain. 

The harmony of truth with itself is the source of our 
intellectual feeling of pleasure; yet to perceive this har- 
mony is given only to him who does not spare himself the 
trouble of investigation within the borders of its objects, 
which are mostly abstract. But there is a class of objects 
which are not abstract but sensuous, and which manifest such 
harmony of parts that every unbiased observer experiences 
a feeling of pleasure when he yields himself to their contem- 
plation in such a way that this harmony appeals imme- 
diately to the senses. Such objects are called beautiful, and 
the feeling to which they give rise is the feeling of the beau- 
tiful, or the aesthetic feeling. 

The beautiful is distinguished from the true on account 
of its sense side, and in the ease with which every unbiased 
observer is able to apprehend the harmony revealed in its 
composition. The relation between the three sides of the 
right-angled triangle, which the Pythagorean theorem reveals, 
shows a wonderfully harmonious relation existing among 
them; but this relation is not beautiful, because a look at the 
right-angled triangle does not reveal it; only a tedious cal- 
culation makes it an object of knowledge. On the other hand, 
the agreement of the octave with the key-note is beautiful, 
for we can hear it; and the harmony among the parts of the 
perfect human form, for we can see it. 



186 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

The ugly is the opposite of the beautiful. Objects are 
called ugly when in the composition of their parts instead of 
agreement or harmony, we find the opposite, and in such a 
way that this disharmony appeals immediately to the senses. 
An object which is not beautiful, is not on this account ugly; 
it may be aesthetically indifferent. A block of stone is 
neither beautiful nor ugly, but may become either when formed 
by the sculptor. Every child perceives that a statue with 
a hand broken off is ugly, because the harmony of the parts 
is disturbed. Just as the false is related to the true, so the 
ugly is to the beautiful. 



I 71. INTELLECTUAL FEELINGS. 

Elementary intellectual feelings are those which accom- 
pany the activity of judging (I 49). The stage of reflection 
is characterized by painful, and that of decision by pleasur- 
able feelings. 

The reflection consists in the vacillation of the recipro- 
cally opposing predicate concepts in connection with a sta- 
tionary, but still iu distinct subject concept. This equipoise 
of vacillation is only sustained by the like distribution of 
the grounds of judgment among the manifold predicate con- 
cepts, and is therefore a struggle for synthesis with the sub- 
ject. The tension and the thronging of concepts, no one 
of which is able to rise to the degree of clearness requisite for 
the final determination of the subject, reveal themselves as 
the feeling of indecision, on account of the preponderating 
arrest of mental movement. When important theoretical and 
practical consequences are attached to the conclusion, when 
accordingly whole groups of concepts are involved in the 
struggle of reflection, the feeling of indecision may give rise 
to great agitation. 



INTELLECTUAL FEELINGS. 187 

This is particularly the case with doubt, which is indeed 
only a continuous, protracted reflection. Theoretical doubt 
has found a poetical personification in Goethe's Faust: and 
practical doubt, in Shakspeare's Hamlet. 

If the impartial division of furthering concepts among 
the predicate concepts is altered in favor of one of the latter, 
the decision is brought about. The furthering of the favored 
predicate concept is perceived as the pleasure of decision. 
Doubt is overcome — truth is here. 

Intellectual feeling as a whole is that which becomes 
associated with the gradual growth of our convictions and 
with the progress of our scientific knowledge. This feeling 
rests upon the agreement or disagreement of our newly gained 
notions and judgments with the totality of our acquired 
knowledge and convictions. The assimilation of the new with 
the old is accomplished through apperception. The easier 
this apperception is, the better the new fits into the frame 
of the old, the livelier will be the feelings of pleasure asso- 
ciated with this activity. On the contrary, the greater the 
disagreement between repulsive individual ideas and judg- 
ments and the totality of our present convictions, the more 
intense will be the feelings of pain which will then arise. 

The disagreement, and with it the feeling of pain, reaches 
its highest degree of intensity when the older, more estab- 
lished masses of concepts which as the principles of our 
theoretical and practical reflection have thus far prevailed as 
apperceiving forces, are themselves apperceived by means of 
newly entering, more recent masses of concepts; in other 
words, token the course of apperception is reversed. This 
occurs when one gives up his faith, changes his principles, 
or places himself upon an entirely different standpoint in 
regard to the problems of life. Such a mental conflict 
would naturally be associated with great agitations of mind 
(8 45). 



188 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

From true intellectual feelings, which accompany the 
clear grasp of truth and the graduated progress toward it, 
must be distinguished that obscure sense of truth which 
arrives at the right conclusion without ever becoming con- 
scious of logical relations (instinct for truth). 

Remark. — The feelings associated with reflection and decision 
deserve the name intellectual only when the reflection is free from 
every subordinate selfish interest, when it is inspired only by the 
desire for truth. These feelings, as the pure and refined love of 
truth, reached their culmination in the philosophy of Socrates. Phil- 
osophical speculation is the opposite of the commercial; the feelings 
associated with the latter can not be enumerated among intellectual 
feelings; for they proceed immediately from the satisfaction of desires 
for gain, — not the acquisition of the truth, but that of material goods. 



i 72. AESTHETIC FEELINGS. 

The aesthetic feelings are feelings of the unconditioned 
valuation of an object, arising from its direct apprehension 
by the senses, and free from all subordinate external inter- 
ests, which announces itself as pleasure in the beautiful or 
displeasure in the ugly. 

In that this valuation is an unconditioned one, it is dis- 
tinguished from that of the useful, in which the object is 
preferred, not for itself alone, but from other reasons, i. e. , 
conditionally; in that it is free from all external subordinate 
interest, it is distinguished from that of desire, which lends 
to objects a very changeable value, dependent upon transi- 
tory states of mind; in that for every unbiased observer it is 
easily made upon a direct sense apprehension, the valuation 
of the beautiful is distinguished from the estimation of the 
true, which latter leads to intellectual pleasure only through 
the changes of reflection and through abstract thought, pain- 
ful to some extent. 



ESTHETIC FEELINGS. 189 

^Esthetic feeling is distinguished from the feeling of the 
agreeable and disagreeable in the fact that the latter is a 
sensuous feeling, clinging to the individual sense impression, 
and hence not separable from it — whereas the aesthetic feel- 
ing as something higher does not depend upon the content of 
the individual, but upon the form of the composite, yet is by 
no means so intimately connected with it as not to be sepa- 
rable from its material content and capable of being analyzed 
in thought. The agreeable in sugar is precisely the sensa- 
tion which it occasions; no new element is here added, but 
the sensation is identical with its content. The beauty of a 
musical accord, on the contrary, is different from the individ- 
ual tones, and can only be predicated by their synthesis; the 
beauty of an architectural structure does not lie in the stones, 
but in a certain regular arrangement of them. Eegarding 
the agreeable, we are not able logically to give the ground 
of our pleasure, because we have here to do only with a sin- 
gle thing, which eludes all logical analysis, whereas with the 
beautiful we are able through reflection to find this ground 
in the relations of the aesthetic object *). 

This is actually the case in aesthetic criticism. Here we 
must distinguish, not only whether the object is beautiful 
or ugly, but also to what extent it is the one or the other. 
This is done by analyzing into its elements the sum of feel- 
ing which is awakened in an unbiased observer, and by point- 
ing out the relations which give rise to them. 

But such an analysis as the art critic makes in passing 
judgment upon a work of art is by no means a condition of 
aesthetic enjoyment. ^Esthetic feeling of pleasure arises 



1) Herbart expressly remarks that "also that which is perceived 
in the feelings of the agreeable and its opposite is synthesized from 
partial concepts which can not be separated from one another in con- 
sciousness, which, however, stand among themselves in relations sim- 
ilar to those of partial concepts in the case of aesthetic objects." 
(Psych. II. p. 110.) 



190 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

rather as the result of satisfaction and harmony coming into 
our consciousness from the beautiful object itself, even where 
the originating concepts have not risen through apperception 
to that degree of clearness demanded in adequate critical 
valuation of a work of art. Without understanding the 
architectural plan of a Gothic cathedral, we perceive the im- 
posing effect of the pointed arch with inward satisfaction; 
and without the faintest suspicion of the hidden laws of 
harmony, we have, upon hearing a piece of classical music, 
the feeling that all should remain as it is, thus arriving at 
the same result as that to which the critic comes after careful 
examination of details. 

Remark 1. — The simple is neither beautiful nor ugly. The single 
tone, the mathematical point, the simple color, are indifferent objects. 
But where two tones are heard together or in succession, there arises 
in addition to their apprehension a feeling having an aesthetic nature. 
However, the repetition of one and the same tone without interrup- 
tion or at equal intervals calls forth rather weariness than pleasure. 
The individual parts of a pleasing whole may not therefore be abso- 
lutely alike, but must rather be different; yet despite this difference, 
they must agree with one another, that is, must form a unit. This 
unity in difference, this agreement among the manifold, this concord 
of the different, is called harmony, a term borrowed from music. 
Harmony is therefore agreement where there might have been dis- 
cord. The greater the conflict is, which finds its reconciliation in the 
beautiful parts ; the more the parts originally tend to separation, 
which are harmoniously brought together in the work of art, the more 
does this agreement make itself felt to the apprehending spirit as 
beauty. The octave is too nearly identical with the key-note, appear- 
ing as its mere repetition, to call forth aesthetic pleasure upon being 
sounded with it. When, on the contrary, tones which are originally 
discordant are brought together into an accord, or where different 
chords are blended into a greater totality of tone, this reconciliation 
of differences is especially apparent. This explains the resolution 
of dissonance in a piece of music, as well as the harmonizing of con- 
flict in that species of the beautiful which is called the tragic. Since 
the simple is everywhere aesthetically indifferent, relations must form 
the object of aesthetic preference or rejection; with tones it is the 



ESTHETIC FEELING. 191 

relation of the numbers expressing their vibrations which decides 
regarding their harmony or discord. The simpler this relation is 
(1:2 in the octave), the more easily is the harmony perceived, the 
more complete is the agreement. With forms also it is measurement 
which produces the aesthetic impression. For example, the pleasure 
in normally developed human forms is produced only by the deter- 
minate harmonious relations of measurement in which the various 
parts stand to each other; e. g., the height, length of arm and leg, 
size of head, angle of the face, etc. Though not clearly conscious 
of this exact measurement (Albrecht Dtirer has made the proportions 
of the human body a special study in his works), we yet perceive 
their effect very clearly in our feeling. Architecture also employs 
these pleasing and determinate proportions, as is seen in the arrange- 
ment of columns, in round and pointed arches. The measure of the 
meter in poetry, the rhythm in music, which, in accordance with fixed 
relations, divides the time in which the musical tones occur, depend 
also upon numerical measurements. 

Remark 2.— On account of its sensuous externality, by means of 
which its apprehension is so easy, the beautiful is especially fitted to 
affect the sensibilities of man, and by appealing to the senses to raise 
him to higher things. Nature in her visible forms manifests much 
of the beautiful. The landscapes of nature, the starry heavens, the 
regularity of crystals, and the organic creations are beautiful. But the 
beautiful of nature often eludes human grasp, because the regularity 
in natural forms and processes is often too obscure, often too compli- 
cated, often too greatly extended in space and time, for sensuous 
apprehension. Therefore the production of the beautiful has ever 
been the end of art, which tries through creative activity to beautify 
life, to elevate the mind above crude sensuousness and to make it 
receptive for a higher ideal world. The fine arts show that matter 
and sensuousness are not the ends in life, but only means for higher, 
supersensuous ends. Even the savage mind, buried in gross sen- 
suality, is affected by the wonderful power of tones, and stirred 
by the inspiring representations of art. (Cranes of Ibycus — Saul and 
David.) 

1 73. .ESTHETIC FEELING IN ITS ELEMENTS AND AS A 
WHOLE. FORM AND CONTENT OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 

The elementary aesthetic feeling is that which arises 
through the apprehension of pleasing or displeasing relations 



192 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

of a fundamental nature; the aesthetic feeling as a total is, 
on the other hand, that which proceeds from the united effect 
of many such relations harmoniously blended in one and the 
same space or time object. 

Two parallel lines, the round or the pointed arch, the 
consonance between two tones, the symmetry of an object, 
the rhyme and the meter in poetry, etc. , are pleasing funda- 
mental relations which excite our simplest aesthetic feelings. 
In the form of a tree or the facade of a house we find the 
relations of symmetry united — in a poem we find the meter 
and rhyme producing a general effect, which calls forth our 
aesthetic feeling as a whole. The union of a number of funda- 
mental aesthetic relations into a total effect, which calls 
forth the pleasurable feeling of harmony in every unbiased 
observer, can not arise when these relations are confused, 
but only when they enter upon a higher unity in accordance 
with some definite plan or some idea. 

In the beauty of nature, this idea appears as creative 
thought in the arrangement of the subject. The organic 
forms of plant and mineral are beautiful, and the human 
form is the most beautiful. In vain do imagination and art 
attempt to surpass nature in the creation of beautiful objects. 
Art may indeed bring together into special groups the scat- 
tered members of the beautiful in nature, but it will never 
succeed in surpassing the natural archetypes. The highest 
productions of creative imagination in the plastic art are 
the Olympian gods; but they bear the human form; every 
attempt to heighten the charm of the human figure by addi- 
tions not accordant with nature ends in sinking into that 
which is below the human. 

With the beautiful of art, in whose portrayal the hand 
and soul of the artist act in freedom, the idea lying at the 
basis of the whole is an affair of the artist's conception — it 
is the Promethean spark which reveals the form of the work 



ESTHETIC FEELING. 193 

of art, as its ideal content. It is this idea which governs the 
mental state of the artist as an apperceiving concept during 
the period of his artistic creation; all details of the artistic 
total must be subordinated to it. Since it appears as the 
central point for the whole of these relations, it may be 
correctly characterized as the aesthetic content of the artistic 
product. 

The apprehension of the idea lying at the basis of the 
beautiful object as the aesthetic content of the natural or 
artistic whole is brought to our subjective perception as a 
system of harmonious fundamental relations, through the 
aesthetic feeling as a total. 

The greater the sum of individual aesthetic relations, 
and the more complex their combination into a total of effect, 
the higher will be the total of aesthetic feeling which this 
object produces in us. 

Remark 1. — It is Herbart's undying service to have revealed the 
secret of the beautiful by pointing out the fundamental aesthetic rela- 
tions. The essence of the beautiful was thus placed in the form of 
the object. Whether this form alone comprises the basis for aesthetic 
pleasure, or whether the latter is not rather to be sought in the con- 
tent inclosed by this form, has recently formed the basis for a lively 
controversy between the Herbartian school and the adherents of 
Schelling and Hegel. This controversy is easily settled by the expla- 
nations of the foregoing paragraph. The beautiful object does indeed 
affect by its form, but the form is itself determined by the content, 
or the idea. Considered by itself, the idea has only a logical, never 
an aesthetical character (plan of a house, content of a poem); the 
idea receives an aesthetic character, only when put into aesthetic form. 
Even the musically beautiful can not entirely free itself from the 
content, especially in the higher kinds of music (sonata, symphony, 
tone-pictures, opera), even though it must be admitted that this con- 
tent is less to be sought in a clear, logical idea, than in an obscure 
harmony of soul in the musician, which appeals to the hearer more as 
a matter of sensibility than as one of logical clearness. — The Her- 
bartian school have shown themselves inclined to admit the content 
alongside of the form as a determining element in the beautiful. 



194 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

(Compare the excellent treatment of this matter in "JSTahlowsky's 
Life of Feeling" p. 181.) 

Remark 2. — The relation between form and content, as well as 
the part each performs in the whole aesthetic effect in various arts 
and art works is very different. The ideal content is greater in speak- 
ing than in plastic arts; greater in the latter than in music, in which 
the content is to have greater value with the so-called musicians of 
the future (See the controversy between C. Hanslik — "Concerning the 
Musically Beautiful," and W. Ambros — "Kegarding the Boundaries 
Between Music and Poetry") ; it is greater in historical pictures than 
in landscapes; greater in the drama than in the idyl; greater in 
Schiller than in Goethe. 



i 74. .ESTHETIC TASTE. 

A judgment through which the attribute beautiful or 
ugly is ascribed to an object is called an aesthetic judgment. 
The subject of such a judgment is a concept of the aesthetic 
object, which must be synthesized as such; the predicate is 
the cesthetic feeling. 

According as this feeling is elementary or total, the 
judgment is elementary or general. The faculty of aesthetic 
judgment is called taste. 

The aesthetic judgment has an original self-evidence; for 
the predicate contains as feeling that which the subject pre- 
sents as mere concept. Here is revealed the progress in- 
volved in the aesthetic apprehension of an object in compar- 
ison with the merely theoretical apprehension. The latter 
pauses with the logical separation of the content of the con- 
cept; the former goes further and adds feeling as a new 
element. * • He who sees nothing in a picture but the painted 
canvas has not seen the picture." 

Notwithstanding the fact that the predicate of the 
aesthetic judgment is a feeling, there must be ascribed to 
this judgment an absolute validity, which is independent of 
the variations of subjective states of mind. This may be seen 



ESTHETIC TASTE. 195 

from its self-evident character. The variations in the aesthetic 
judgment of things is to be explained through the fact that 
with the pure aesthetic approval, are mixed other kinds of 
valuation, such as the utilitarian, the agreeable, and even 
the accidental. The aesthetic apprehension demands that the 
idea of the aesthetic object as a whole shall be freed from the 
other changeable and accidental elements in our conscious- 
ness, and regarded solely in respect to its effect upon the 
sensibilities — a demand which in truth is not often fully 
complied with. Instead of approaching a work of art with 
unprejudiced minds, and of allowing ourselves to be led 
solely by the beauty of its form in our estimate of its aesthetic 
value, we approach it with all sorts of expectations, and 
with ruling or hastily produced apperceiving concepts, which 
unconsciously to us influence and color our aesthetic judg- 
ments — and perhaps allow ourselves to speculate upon those 
effects which proceed from the expense of the material, the 
richness of the surroundings, or from the political, religious, 
or other motives contained in the work of art. Our judgment 
is then no longer purely aesthetic. 

On account of this mixing of aesthetic approval with 
subjective expectations and the ruling ideas of the day, our 
aesthetic taste sinks to mere love of fashion, which is char- 
acterized by extraordinary relativity and changeableness. 
There is nothing which fashion can not regard as beautiful. 
The ugliness of that which fashion pronounces beautiful 
appears when we pass judgment upon modes no longer fash- 
ionable. Notwithstanding all this, the absoluteness of 
aesthetic judgment and with it the validity of aesthetic taste 
remains. All that is needed is the unbiased state of the 
mind as a subjective condition of pure aesthetic apprehension, 
the same lack of prejudice which we see to be a condition for 
the apprehension of the true. "Man must deny himself;" 
that is, his subjective expectations, inclinations, selfish 



196 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

interests. Then only should he attempt the apprehension of 
the true or the beautiful. 

Remark. — If truth presupposes a pure, unprejudiced, dispas- 
sionate state of mind for its apprehension, this is demanded in a still 
higher degree in the case of beauty; for, the essential element of 
the beautiful, with which it overflows, is a feeling, that is, a state of 
the mind; but objective beauty cannot mirror itself in a mind that is 
excited with passion. The beautiful, like the divine, presupposes a 
devout frame of mind, a purified heart which approaches its altar. 
The uncultured mind seizes the object (chiefly through the lower 
senses), in order to make it a means for the satisfaction of desires; it 
is not the form, but the material of the object which is preferred. 
iEsthetic apprehension leaves the object untouched which it ap- 
proaches, only with the higher senses in silent devotion. "Man does 
not desire the stars — he rejoices in their beauty" (Goethe). Not with- 
out reason is religious worship blended with the aesthetic, especially 
in the Catholic church. What has been said holds especially in regard 
to sensibility to music, and, since cause and effect here strengthen 
each other, to its purifying power; Shakspeare remarks, and not with- 
out reason: 

"The man that hath no music in himself, 

Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, 
Is fit for treasons, strategems, and spoils; 
Let no such man be trusted." 

I 75. MORAL FEELINGS. 

Man arrives at a knowledge of good and evil through the 
reason. Either the one or the other may lead to feelings 
which are called moral feelings. 

The source of these feelings is the harmony or lack of 
harmony of the will with its ideals. When we become con- 
scious of a will which answers to its ideal; i. 6., is consti- 
tuted as it should be, we announce an approval winch man- 
ifests itself as a moral feeling of pleasure. Where, on the 
contrary, acts of will are perceived which are contrary to the 
moral ideals, this contradiction makes itself felt as a moral 
feeling of pain. 



MORAL FEELINGS. 197 

This harmony or discord with moral laws maybe observed 
in others as well as in ourselves. We may distinguish, there- 
fore, — 

THE MORAL FEELING 

N ~ £ t , ( 1. In our own will, 

a) Of moral harmony, j 2 ^ the ^ of ^^ 

n A , , -.. -, ( 3. In our own will. 

o) Of moral discord. \ , T ,, M1 , ,, 
' ( 4. In the will of another. 

The feeling indicated in subdivision 1 flows forth as 
moral peace of mind from the approving conscience of the 
man of character; whereas that indicated in 3 is the gnaw- 
ing of conscience, which may become tormenting self-con- 
demnation and despair. The feelings indicated in 2 and 4 
appear as moral admiration or moral indignation where we 
come upon moral greatness or moral meanness, upon noble 
deeds or shameful ones, whether in life or in poetry. (Drama, 
epic poem. Burger's "Song of the Brave Man" — "Lied 
vom braven Mann.") 

The moral feelings are, therefore, nothing more than 
pleasure in the good and pain in the bad, the preference of 
the former and the rejection of the latter. They are the 
feelings by which the eternal and unquenchable demands of 
conscience appeal to our minds. 

It is of the greatest consequence for the moral condition 
of man that he should not remain indifferent to the good and 
the bad, but that he render his mind sensitive to moral feel- 
ings. This sensibility, upon which tenderness of conscience 
depends, is best supported by the contemplation of noble 
moral characters, which bring the moral ideas before us in 
embodied form, and compel our souls to moral approval. x ) 

1) Art, which appeals to the senses, is more effective than abstract 
conceptions. The significance of (true) theatrical art for the devel- 
opment of moral feelings is not highly enough prized. Here the good 
and bad characters act directly before our eyes, and excite us to moral 
admiration or moral indignation. Compare Schiller's excellent mon- 
ograph, "The Stage Regarded as a Moral Institution." "Die Schau- 
biihne als Moralische Anstalt." 



198 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

Remark 1. — The good is distinguished from the beautiful in that 
the object of aesthetic judgment in the latter is an external and more 
or less indifferent one (as, e. g., colors, stones, tones, words); whereas 
with the good this object is the will of man, i. e., the man himself. 
While, therefore, the representation of the beautiful in the various 
arts can not in general become a duty, no one can escape the duty of 
representing the moral ideas in his will and action. When one, for 
instance, is a poor piano player, or an indifferent poet, he can ward 
off the condemning judgment regarding his artistic actions by the 
remark that he plays or writes for himself and that he could abandon 
these amusements; but when he is a bad man, he must suffer others 
to break the rod of judgment over him and pay him the tribute of 
contempt. For this reason the good is infinitely higher than the beau- 
tiful, though in other respects intimately connected with it. 

Remark 2. — The moral feeling which is originally a simple 
approval of the good, and condemnation of the bad, may, under differ- 
ent circumstances, assume different forms. It manifests itself as 
esteem or contempt in the case of the moral or immoral actions of 
others; as a feeling of justice where we have to do with established 
rights; as a feeling of honor where we have to do with the judgment 
of others regarding our moral actions; as shame and remorse where 
we must pronounce judgment against ourselves; as thankfulness or 
gratitude where we seek to recompense the good deeds received from 
others, etc. 



I 76. RELIGIOUS FEELINGS. 

Closely related to the moral, are the religious feelings. 
By religious feelings we mean such as have their seat in 
man's ideas of a supersensible world, whose center is God. 

Man very soon discovers (particularly in destructive 
catastrophes, in the tumult of the elements, upon the stormy 
sea, in danger, etc.) his own impotence and dependence upon 
higher powers. He sees that the magnitude and splendor of 
creation, the significant adjustments of nature, the undeni- 
able foresight in the chain of events, presuppose a wise ruler; 
and finally that the undeniable validity of moral demands 



RELIGIOUS FEELINGS. 193 

points to a highest moral (holy) originator of the moral law. 
Man is led through these observations to a knowledge of a 
highest being. 

The concepts of God and a future world become the 
source of manifold feelings. Reverence, gratitude, love to 
God, are religious feelings, which find their expression in 
divine veneration and in religious exercises, especially in 
prayer, which is conversation with God. 

These feelings are very important, for they bring won- 
derful consolation to man in the vicissitudes of life, and lift 
his spirit above this world of sense. But they attain their 
greatest importance in that they are the most important 
support of morals, since they make the moral law, which 
would otherwise be a mere demand of the reason, appear as 
an expression of the divine will, and requite its obedience or 
disobedience with rewards and punishments. 

Remark 1. — All the events and relations of the earthly life appear 
in a more beautiful light when they are viewed from the standpoint 
of religion. The existence of man does not end with the physical 
death, but really only begins then; the virtue here rejected and 
trodden into the mire will triumph in the hereafter; the evil here 
holding its head aloft in the chariot of victory will there find its 
destroyer; the hypocrite will be exposed; the righteous man will be 
lifted up; there will reign peace, harmony, blessedness. It is in these 
reflections that the marvelous consolations of religion consist. 

Remark 2. — The careful contemplation of nature greatly furthers 
the belief in God and the religious feelings. The eternal order in 
the economy of nature; the profound plan, scarcely attainable by 
human reason, which extends throughout all the processes of nature; 
the marvelous intertwining of individual phenomena in order to reach 
a highest end — all this gives more than a guaranty for the existence 
of a supreme ruler of the universe. Therefore the greatest natural- 
ists have been the most pious men. It is said of Newton, the man 
who has looked deepest into the order of the universe, that he never 
could hear the name of God spoken without uncovering his head. 



200 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

I 77. PERSONAL, OR EGOISTIC FEELING. 

The object of personal feeling is our own ego. In the 
course of our mental life it experiences furtherance and 
depression, upon which the exaltation or depression of the 
egoistic feeling rests. I am affirmed, e. g. , in acknowledg- 
ment, praise, honor, — this leads to exaltation; everything 
whereby our ego is negated, as, e. g. , blame, contempt, ridi- 
cule, unsuccessful results, violence, and limitation of every 
kind, leads to a depression of our egoistic feeling. 

The ego is man's strongest concept mass, for it is rein- 
forced by the total complex of concepts. But in its out- 
wardly directed activity it soon comes upon difficulties and 
boundaries beyond which it can not go. These obstructions 
are either the blind powers of nature or the conscious activ- 
ity of other men. 

In so far as the ego is able to surmount these difficulties, 
to overcome these limitations, it feels itself greater, more 
powerful, less limited. The furtherance of the ego concept 
through the surmounting of outward hindrances gives rise 
to the egoistic feeling. The more complete this victory is, 
the more intense will the feeling be. 

Even the child shows pleasure in such activities as enable 
him to realize the superiority of his own personality over the 
external world, to make his own ego valid against external 
forces, therefore the child's joy in the destruction of outer 
objects, therefore the pleasure in playing with lifeless things, 
in altering them at pleasure, and in making his playfellows 
subject to himself; i. e., dependent upon his own personality. 

But the adult also feels the need of asserting his own 
ego in word and deed; the rude impulse to destroy, which is 
met with in children and savages, is with him transformed 
into the nobler impulses of construction and art, whereby, 
instead of destroying, he creates new forms; the crude desire 



PERSONAL FEELINGS. 201 

to rule is changed into obedience to law, which makes true 
freedom first possible. The egoistic feeling of man, which at 
first threatened to degenerate all things external in the over- 
valuation of self, is now brought back to its proper limits. 

This is particularly the case when the individual feeling 
of self is widened and ennobled by being extended to social 
feeling. Man finds himself in society, in which he stands in 
the relation of a fraction to the whole. He is not himself the 
middle-point of society; this he must rather yield to the polit- 
ical, religious, and social leaders, as well as to the highest 
and best; but in thought he approaches as closely as possible 
to this middle point, and feels himself infinitely exalted, in 
that he participates in the power and greatness of the social 
whole, thus striking off the limitation, the imperfection, and 
the transientness of the individual. (See Author's Psychol- 
ogy of Society, I 24. ) 

The social feeling of self is the feeling of honor, which 
rests upon the acknowledgment of our own worth by society, 
and is therefore furthered by everything which can exalt the 
idea of our own personality in the eyes of society. Man 
instinctively undertakes everything in order to hold the idea 
of his own. personality high in the social consciousness; i. e., 
to promote his honor, and when it is attacked, to rescue it. *) 
The sudden and irresistible check of the self-consciousness is 
manifested in the feeling of shame. 

Remark 1. — There is also a false feeling of self, which has its 
seat, not in actual experience regarding the validity of the ego, but 
in imaginary views regarding its assumed value. In order to pro- 
tect man from this false feeling of self, which can only be harmful 
in life, it is important that he be early accustomed to obedience. This 
is nothing more than the subordination of the ego under a higher 
power. It is also the most important exercise for the youthful being 
in a moral regard. The feeling of self when it does not degenerate 

1) The thought of not being able to live without honor lies at 
the basis of the duel, in its higher apprehension. 



202 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

to selfishness is a noble moral feeling, for it protects man from every 
humiliation. 

Remark 2. — Upon this suppression of the egoistic feeling rests 
one of the most painful of feelings, namely, the fear of death. Ego- 
istic feeling is never so much opposed as by the thought that 
there may be a condition in which the ego will no more exist. This 
weight upon the ego-concept is the source of the fear of death, 
which can only be banished by the argument that the ego need not 
fear a state in which it no longer exists. It is not the idea of some 
expected evil, but the thought of nothingness that causes the anxiety 
in the fear of death. Therefore the ego demands unlimited contin- 
uance, and finds its comfort in the belief in immortality. 



§ 78. SYMPATHY. 

While the egoistic feeling threatens to insulate man, 
that of sympathy attracts him to other beings of his own 
kind. The physiognomy is capable of expressing human 
feelings in mien and gesture. Pleasure and pain are revealed 
in the radiant or the clouded eye, in the erect or drooping 
position of the body, in the expression of the face, and in the 
speech. One can therefore judge from the exterior of man 
what feelings move him from within. 

If in this manner we perceive the feelings of another, we 
can not long remain entirely indifferent to them; we put our- 
selves in the place of the other ego, and since we bring to 
consciousness the concepts upon which his feelings rest, we 
make his feelings our own; i. e., we sympathize, or feel with 
him. Sympathy is accordingly that feeling which arises 
through the perception of feeling in another, and which is 
similar in tone to the feeling observed. According as the 
feeling was pleasure or pain, our sympathy is joy in his 
fortune, or commiseration for his misfortune. 

The going out of the ego in sympathetic feeling is most 
active where the similarity of concepts brings about a com- 



SYMPATHY. 203 

mon consciousness, a "we," because under such circum- 
stances one can most easily think himself into the state of 
the foreign ego. We sympathize, therefore, most easily with 
such persons as are most like ourselves in mental condition; 
as, with relatives, associates of the same age, countrymen, etc. 

But with sympathy there is involuntarily mixed the 
reflection upon our own condition, which obtrudes itself 
more or less, thus causing sympathy to become a mixed feel- 
ing, since with pity is associated the joy at our own more 
fortunate state, and with the joy in another's happiness, the 
sadness of our less happy condition. Should these accom- 
panying feelings come into the foreground, they may even 
quench the sympathy and become transformed into an oppos- 
ing feeling, or antipathy. This occurs when, upon perceiv- 
ing feeling in another, we are thrown into a feeling the 
opposite of that perceived; as when, for instance, another's 
joy saddens us, or his pain pleases us. In the first case 
envy, the opposite of pleasure in another's good fortune, 
arises; in the second, pleasure in another's misfortune, or 
the opposite of pity. 

Sympathy is important because it builds the bridge to 
benevolence and love, which are the center of gravity for the 
moral ideas. Antipathy, though not always to be condemned 
(who does not rejoice when a hypocrite stands revealed in 
his contemptibleness?), is on the whole a dangerous state for 
morality, since it may easily lead to ill-will and hate. 

We must distinguish between these feelings and those of 
involuntary sympathy and antipathy; i. e., the unconscious 
attraction or repulsion in regard to living or lifeless things. 
We feel sympathy or antipathy regarding men whom we see 
for the first time, or parrots and apes, or landscapes and 
cities, without being able to explain precisely why. (Antip- 
athy of women for spiders and preference for cats.) These 
feelings rest upon obscure concepts which are associated with 



204 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

the idea of the respective objects, and which cause in us a 
feeling of pleasure or pain. 1 ' 

Remark 1. — Pity is more met with in life than sympathy of a 
joyous nature. We sympathize rather with the man whose property 
is destroyed by fire, and whom we see before us in his desperate cir- 
cumstances, than with him who has won the grand prize in a lottery, 
and who now rejoices at his good luck. Sympathy with the good for- 
tune of others is a sign of a noble nature, which is above vulgar envy 
and selfish desires, just as pleasure in the misfortune of others is a 
sign of a deeply corrupted heart. For this reason love of destruction 
must not be suffered in the heart of the child, must not be permitted 
to grow with his growth. Children who manifest a pleasure in tear- 
ing off the wings and legs of bugs and butterflies, knowing that they 
are causing pain, show already an evil heart. What in a small way 
they do with helpless animals, they will in a greater do with men 
when they have strength and opportunity. Envy is not so bad as the 
love of injury to others; for it finds some excuse in the reflection upon 
the personal, perhaps less happy state, and may prove a spur to im- 
provement through increased activity. Therefore those are most 
envied by us who in regard to external circumstances are most our 
equals, because this equality excites comparison and contrast. A beg- 
gar envies another beggar who has been more lucky in begging, rather 
than a prince. The latter appears to him as a being of a higher order. 

Remark 2. — Sympathy leads very easily to love. By this general 
term we mean that feeling which devotes itself to another personality 
and finds its own true expression in the greatest possible union with 
the other personality. Love seeks to approach the beloved object as 
nearly as possible, to identify itself with it, and to fill up the gulf 
which lies between me and thee. It fuses the individuals into a unity 
of existence, and, as far as possible, annihilates the distance which 
separates them. It may have various motives, in accordance with 
which it assumes specific forms (friendship, love of children, love 
between the sexes), and has a varying moral worth. It reaches its 
highest moral worth when it renounces every selfish motive and 
devotes itself to mankind as universal love of man (brotherly love). 

1) Perhaps that man who excites our sympathy has a feature in 
his face which reminds us dimly of some beloved person; perhaps 
that valley which touches a sympathetic chord has a similarity to 
the fields of our home neighborhood. 



RECIPROCAL ACTION OF FEELING. 205 

This is the genuine love which Christianity places at the front of 
morals, which is active wherever opportunity offers, and which 
excludes nobody, not even an enemy. Christ, who mingled with all 
men, with love to the good and the bad, who died for all mankind 
upon the cross, praying for his enemies, is the sublimest archetype of 
Christian love. 



& 79. RECIPROCAL ACTION OF FEELINGS. 

Just as the unity of consciousness brings about a fusion 
of simultaneous concepts, so the unity of feeling brings about 
the conjunction of all feelings occurring at the same moment 
of life. The resultant of these simultaneous feelings mani- 
fests itself in the mind's general state of feeling. 

This general state of feeling is synthesized from num- 
berless elementary feelings, which in the main rest upon 
obscure concepts, which taken individually are too weak to 
become noticeable. The tone of these elementary feelings 
passes over into the tone of the general state of feeling, which 
thus becomes a disposition to feelings of pleasure or pain. 

The feeling of life and the products of the vital sense 
form the dark background of our momentary state of feeling. 
Herewith are associated the minor movements of feeling, 
which, in accordance with the events of the day, affect us, 
now as depressing, now as enlivening, and become noticeable 
only in their totality as good or bad humor, as joyousness or 
as sadness. 1 ) 



1) An analysis of these obscure and in themselves very insignifi- 
cant elementary feelings by introspection is hardly possible, and we 
are often utterly unable to ascribe a cause to our joyous or depressed 
state of feeling. The most insignificant incidents of the day are not 
without their influence upon it. On a foggy morning an Englishman, 
on account of depression of spirits, thought to commit suicide. He 
had already placed the pistol to his head, when the clouds parted and 
the sun shone. His depression was scattered with the breaking of 
the clouds, and the thought of suicide was postponed. 



206 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

From this obscure complex of feelings, characterized 
only by tone, only those feelings arise as special states which 
have their seat in clear concepts or in detached groups of 
concepts. But even these feelings are much influenced by 
the tone of the ruling state of mind. 

On account of the coming together of these species of 
special feelings there not unfrequently arise augmentations 
and contrasts of feeling, according as these harmonize in 
tone or not. The pleasure arising from a well-spread table 
may be much augmented by the satisfaction of happily com- 
pleted deeds, successfully passed examinations, by a gay 
holiday mood, or by the relation to some purpose satisfactory 
to us (festivities), or by the presence of similarly minded 
companions (banquets, etc. 1 )); on the other hand, the pleas- 
ure may be greatly dampened by anxiety regarding con- 
templated labor or undertakings, or by the presence of 
persons who are disagreeable to us. A good conscience, 
because in itself the source of the purest pleasure, augments 
every joy, whereas the consciousness of guilt spoils every 
pleasure. 

Here, also, belong the "mixed feelings." Nothing is 
commoner than that a certain change in the state of our feel- 
ings should augment on the one side the arrest, on the other 
the furthering of concepts, thus at the same time producing 
feelings of pleasure and pain. Every surprise brings about 
a mixed feeling. A strong and lasting mixed feeling is called 
melancholy. 

So far as they are opposite in content, feelings may 
arrest each other, in that the concepts in which they have 
their seat are arrested. As there is a concentration of con- 



1) The common attempt to increase this pleasure by table music 
seems less happy; unless indeed an appropriate kind of music should 
be invented. The pleasure in tones and the satisfaction of the palate 
belong to entirely different departments. 



VIOLENT FEELINGS, OR PASSIONS. 207 

sciousness, so there is a concentration of feeling (heart), in 
accordance with which the intensity, and, indeed, the dura- 
tion of feelings decreases with their number, their manifold- 
ness, and their opposition in kind. Thus, cosmopolitanism 
stands opposed to patriotism. He who is enthusiastic for 
many and different things is superficial and transient in his 
enthusiasms. 

Remark 1. — The general state of feeling is not constant; it is 
rather changeable according as the numberless psychical components 
upon which it depends change. Since its average tone must be one 
either of pleasure or pain, this must be determined by the promi- 
nent elements of feeling found in it. If, for instance, depression of 
feeling has occurred, it extends over the whole state of sensibility; even 
the fly upon the wall offends him who is already vexed — the whole 
concept life is drawn into the unhappy state. Therefore, the first 
impressions which one receives in the morning or upon entrance into 
strange society are often the decisive ones, and the first tone sounds 
through the whole day or the whole conversation. Yet the opposite 
often takes place; the one state of feeling gives way to the opposite 
If this becomes habitual and involuntary, it is characterized as humor. 
This is often a consequence of somatic disturbance (biliousness, hypo- 
chondria, hysteria). 

Remark 2. — The predominance of the obscure state of feeling 
over clear consciousness is called humor. The frame of mind may be 
joyous or sad, exalted or depressed. An exalted state of mind pre- 
supposes a certain physical well being, and the presence of significant 
masses of concepts in the mind. This is the state in which all great 
deeds are executed, all art work created and enjoyed. 



? 80. VIOLENT FEELINGS, OR PASSIONS. 

Passion in the narrower sense, or violent feeling, is the 
exact opposite of peace of mind. 1 ) 



1) With the exception of profound sleep, there never is absolute 
quietness of feeling. That which we call such is only a middle state 
in the tension of our concepts, in which they approach an equipoise 
as nearly as possible through their reciprocal fusions and arrests. 



208 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY, 

The momentary equipoise of the concepts is constantly 
disturbed by the feelings, in the sense of over or under ten- 
sion of furthering or arrest, even though the peace of mind 
be not thereby destroyed; for, the tension of concepts, no 
matter how far carried, may be released in purely psycho- 
logical ways. In truth, experience shows that the most in- 
tense feelings, which have their root in the depths of the soul 
and are interwoven with the most diverse concepts — love for 
one's native land, attachment to those near and dear, relig- 
ious worship, and poetic inspiration — are in fact far removed 
from really violent feelings, or passions. 

These violent disturbances arise only when concepts in 
a state of equipoise receive such an impulse to rise or sink 
in intensity, through the sudden and unexpected entrance of 
a concept, usually a sense-perception, that the former equi- 
poise suffers a sudden and violent disturbance, and more 
concepts are thrust into or out of consciousness than would 
occur in a quiet development, and more than answer to a 
balanced state of mind. The suddenness and tumultuousness 
of this action does not give the ego concept time enough to 
appear and to make its apperceiving influence valid; i. e., 
to restore the equilibrium. In passion, for example, anger, 
man is not himself, but beside himself — he is impelled to 
words and deeds in which he would not recognize himself 
when his balance of mind is restored (man does not know 
himself in anger). 

The sudden mounting or sinKmg of concepts bears with 
it a corresponding modification in physiological resonance; 
that is, in accompanying conditions of the nervous system. 
This appears as excitation or depression of nerve activity, at 
first in the central portions of the cerebrospinal system, 
then in the nerve fibers which lead from it, and is reflected 
finally in the nerves and systems of the vegetative spheres; 
therefore the remarkable bodily phenomena which accom- 



VIOLENT FEELINGS, OR PASSIONS. 209 

pany the passions, and which manifest themselves in the 
sudden tension or relaxation of the muscles (doubling the 
fists, cramp, trembling, temporary paralysis), in the altered 
circulation of blood (blushing, paling, heart paralysis), secre- 
tion or discharge (of gall, saliva, tears), and respiration (the 
snorting expiration of breath by the angry, and the arrest- 
ing of the breath with the terrified). 

This sudden disturbance of the nervous system exercises 
a very significant reflex action upon the condition of the 
mind itself. The intensified or depressed state of excitation 
in the physical masses of the nervous system, in accordance 
with the faculty of continuance, may prevent an immediate 
return to a normal middle activity, and thus prevent the 
return of the highly- strung concepts to their condition of 
equipoise. Passion must wear itself out; only when the exci- 
tation in the nervous conditions has gradually calmed can 
the mind return to its normal state of equipoise. Thus, in 
the condition of violent feeling, the body, temporarily indeed, 
brings the mind under its dominion and robs it of its free 
self-determination. On this account the passions are con- 
nected with the temperaments, of which the choleric does 
most to produce violent states of feeling, and the phlegmatic 
least. Education, culture, helps to subdue passion, since 
it brings about an even, inner fusion of our concepts. 

In accordance with the foregoing, one may define passion 
in the narrow sense as a sudden and violent disturbance of 
the equipoise of concepts, which, in consequence of an unex- 
pected invasion, is brought about by the assistance of physi- 
ological causes, and associated with violent excitations of 
mind. 

Remark 1. — Every feeling may increase until it has this violent 
nature as soon as, on account of increased physiological resonance 
or of the stronger physiological pressure, reflection is lost. Even the 
i ablest feelings of man are capable of this degradation; as, for 



210 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

example, the feelings of right and morality. The feeling of requital 
when outraged by tardy or insufficient justice easily increases among 
the people to the violent stage, and breaks out in dreadful deeds of 
lynch-law, just as the noble feeling of patriotism is often intensified 
into revolutionary insanity. 

Remark 2. — The physiological disturbance of the nervous system 
is at first an effect of the passion, but may itself also become a strength- 
ening cause of it. "Thus, passion first agitates the body; but the 
agitation is continued in the body, and in turn does not at once allow 
the mind to regain its natural condition and activity." In this way 
the lower kinds of passion may be excited by the body; he who frowns 
or doubles his fist after the manner of an angry man, actually becomes 
angry, and, "The hand which smooths the frowning brow appeases 
also the anger expressed by it." (Lotze.) In this way the dampening 
of passion in a purely physiological manner is explained. A glass of 
water for the agitated, a glass of wine for the despondent, may serve 
a good purpose. Even to take a seat may have an effect, and Kant 
recommends as a counter argument, the offering of a chair to one who 
enters our room in order to use hard words against us. If the angry 
person sits, the relaxation of the muscles begins the relaxation of the 
tension of the mind, 

Remark 3. — Even the slightest external occasions may break up 
the equipoise of the mind when it does not rest upon reliable apper- 
ceiving concepts, or even when an unexpected incident catches us off 
our guard. There are men who bear with fortitude the hardest blows 
of fate, but who are beside themselves if in an unlucky moment a 
button comes off or a fly lights on the nose. 



? 81. CLASSIFICATION OF THE PASSIONS. 

The subdivision of the passions corresponds to that of 
the feelings. The deviation of the concepts from a state of 
equipoise may be in consequence of an intensifying or of a 
depression of concepts. In the first case, we find a power- 
ful releasing and acceleration of the movement of concepts, 
accompanied by an overfilling of the consciousness and a 



CLASSIFICATION OF THE PASSIONS. 211 

heightened feeling of power — in the latter case, by a power- 
ful checking or arrest of the flow of representation, together 
with a prevailing emptiness of consciousness and a feeling 
of helplessness. In the first case, the violent agitation of 
the mind is like mountainous billows; in the latter, like the 
valleys between them. 

The reflex action in the two cases will also be an opposite 
one. In the first, an augmentation; in the second, a depres- 
sion of the nerve activity will occur. Agitations of the first 
sort are called active; of the second, passive. 

Anger is the representative of the active passions, fear 
of the passive. Anger, which arises mainly in consequence 
of offended egoistic feeling in consequence of injury done, 
brings a flood of concepts over the threshold of consciousness, 
which in their lawless thronging rob the man of reflection, 
some concepts being rapidly raised to the highest degree of 
intensity, so that the volitions and actions which follow from 
them assume the character of an irresistible tide of feeling. 
With fear, on the contrary, there is a sudden ebbing of con- 
cepts, in that a single concept mass excessively intensified 
(that of the event feared) causes a general sinking of concepts, 
so that the resulting vacancy of mind expresses itself exter- 
nally in silence, trembling, indecision, and inactivity. 

These mental agitations have, further, their outbreak, 
their culmination, and their decline and termination. The 
last is effected in that the displaced ego concept gradually 
comes again to validity, apperceiving the concepts aroused 
on account of the agitated state. The given classification 
relates to the state of the mind when the agitation is at its 
culmination. 



212 



EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 



In conclusion, we may 
offered by Prof. Nahlowsky: 

A. Active, or Plus Side. 
Pleasant surprise. 
Sudden enlivening. 
G-ayety. 
Abandon. 
Excessive joy. 
Entrancement. 
Courage. 
Anger. 

Vexation, resentment, en- 
mity. 
Admiration. 
Inspiration. 
Ecstasy. 



find place for the classification 

B. Passive, or Minus Side. 
Overpowering astonishment. 
Predicament, confusion, sud- 
den loss of good humor. 
Painful surprise. 
Attacks of care and sadness. 
Anxiety. 
Depression. 
Lack of courage. 
Shame. 
Fear. 
Terror. 
Abhorrence. 
Amazement, horror. 
Remorse. 
Despair. 



PART III. 
STRIVING, OR IMPULSE TO ACTION, 



CHAPTER I. 
I 82. DESIRE. 



Desire is in general a state of mind which strives to 
bring about some other state not now present. It is always 
directed toward some particular object; but only the idea of 
the object, not the object itself, can penetrate to conscious- 
ness; for instance, not the gold, but the idea of its undis- 
turbed possession; not the water, but the sensation of a sat- 
isfied thirst. 

But the idea of the desired object was already in con- 
sciousness when desired. He who does not know the quench- 
ing quality of water or who cannot imagine the pleasure of 
its possession would never desire it. Before possession the 
concept is arrested; afterwards it is freed from arrest. 

Impulse strives, therefore, to shake off the undesirable 
state of arrest from the idea of the desired object, and to 
exchange this state for that of freedom from arrest in order 
to be complete master of its object so far as can be through 
the medium of concepts. This is brought about by a struggle 
against the opposing, arresting concepts, and by elevating 
the concept of the desired object higher and higher above 
the threshold of consciousness. The necessary power to do 



214 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

this is lent by the subordinate helping concepts which impel 
to desire, and which are, therefore, motives of desire. 

Concepts which are under the influence of impulse we 
call desires. ^ 

In desire, as in feeling, we distinguish: 1) the concept of 
the desired object == A, 2) the sum of the opposing concepts 
== M, and 3) the sum of the furthering or assisting concepts 
= N. But desire differs from feeling, in that it is not, like 
the latter, a momentary stage of mental activity, but is a 
transition through several such stages; i. e., it signifies a 
movement. The several cross sections of this movement 
are mixed feelings, because now the intensifying of the chief 
concept, A, now the vain struggle against its opposites, M, 
comes to consciousness. The energy of desire will depend 
upon the force developed by the furthering concepts, N, and 
can be measured by the resistance of the opposing concepts, 
M. If these assisting concepts are sense-perceptions, whose 
power is continuously renewed by prolonged sense impres- 
sion, — if they are sensations which have their root in deter- 
minate physiological relations, — if they are series which cross 
in the concept, A, and, in the effort to develop or run off, 
bring it more definitely to consciousness, then the desire may 
assume an extraordinary degree of intensity and manifest 
itself as demand or longing. Negative desire, as the sinking 
of a concept.before its opponents, is abhorrence or detestation. 

I 83. SATISFACTION OF DESIRES. 

A desire is satisfied when the chief concept, A, has reached 
the highest degree of clearness of which it is capable. 

1) Strictly speaking, every concept strives for freedom from 
arrest, as its natural condition. But the effect of this striving is 
counteracted by the action of opposing concepts; it is just as if the 
impulse did not exist. Impulse is first called desire when its effect is 
manifested by the elevation of a concept to ever higher degrees of 
clearness, through the support of numerous attendant concepts, until 
it momentarily occupies our whole consciousness. 



SATISFACTION OF DESIRES. 215 

This moment is subjectively recognized as an intense 
feeling of pleasure, for the opposing concepts, which have 
been so long struggled against in vain, appear permanently 
overcome. 

Such a satisfaction can in general only be obtained when 
the reproduced concept, i. e. , the concept held by imagina- 
tion before the mind, becomes a sense-perception; for so long 
as it remains mere concept in the narrow sense (1 13), it must, 
in the contest with its opposing concepts, suffer participation 
in their arrest. Only when it becomes a sense-perception can 
it (according to ? 44) totally free itself from arrest. 

Experience completely establishes this fact. 

Homesickness, for example, can be wholly cured only by 
actually going home and allowing the beloved spot to affect 
the senses 1 ). 

It is otherwise with the intellectual desires; their aim is 
not an object of sense, but a certain rearrangement of con- 
cepts, as in the solution of a problem. Here the satisfac- 
tion consists in concentrating the whole power of attention 
upon one group of concepts, so that consciousness is confined 
within one limited field of thought, thus greatly increasing 
the clearness of the same. Thus, by means of intellectual 
desire, the attention is directed now upon this, now upon 
that point of consciousness, and the course of thought is cor- 
respondingly governed. 

1) There is indeed a kind of artificial satisfaction for sensuous 
desire, independent of the senses, since one by voluntarily directing 
the inner attention may seek to raise the concept of the desired object 
to the highest degree of clearness, and to drive all opposing concepts 
from consciousness. Longing, or ardent desire, seeks this mode of 
satisfaction by forcibly disengaging itself from the impressions of 
immediate sense, and by yielding itself to the remembrances of the 
absent object. Although in this way there may be found a species 
of satisfaction, yet it can never be so complete, so enduring, so free 
from care as that furnished by the senses. There is rather a constant 
oscillation between the full desire and the partial satisfaction, a con- 
dition of the soul which in the case of longing, that sweet pain, 
sickens man and blanches his cheeks. 



216 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

Desire is quenched in satisfaction. But it may appear 
again as soon as the never failing opposing concepts press 
into consciousness in consequence of relaxing sense excitation 
or failing attention, and the concept of the desired object is 
thrown from its state of freedom back into that of struggle. 
If this is the case, the way is opened for a new satisfaction, 
and this play between desire and satisfaction may continue 
active for a long time. This play is especially engrossing 
when its single acts pass over into one another in accordance 
with a certain rhythmical alternation. It is in this that the 
entertainment of play and the arts requiring time for their 
execution (the dance, gymnastics, theater, music) consist, 
whereas plastic arts and architecture in their unchangeable- 
ness have an element of earnestness. Labor is also broken 
by a like rhythmical change of desire and satisfaction. 

Remark 1. — The more completely and exclusively the concept 
mass concerning the desired object occupies our consciousness, and 
the more completely the tension of the desire is relieved, the more 
perfect is the satisfaction. Such a complete satisfaction is almost 
exclusively peculiar to sensuous desires, because they are simplest in 
their content, and their satisfaction is most easily brought about. 
With desires not sensuous, the greater the field of thought to which 
they relate, the more incomplete is the satisfaction, for with the mag- 
nitude of this field the difficulty of an all-sided release of the many 
tensions increases. In general, the richer the concept life of man, 
the more difficult does the task become to satisfy fully the desires 
which arise with the growing activity of the concepts, and the wealth 
of their relations. Therefore, the satisfaction of the desires of the 
animal, the child, and the untutored savage, is probably much easier 
than with the cultured man.D 

Remark 2. — Desire and satisfaction are related as expectation and 
realization. Just as expectation idealizes its object through the activ- 

1) Every desire arises either from a sensuous or an intellectual 
need. The wealth of desires increases with the number of needs. 
The more the spiritual, social, and economic life of man becomes 
complicated, the more do his needs and desires increase, and the more 
difficult does it become to satisfy them. Compare the author's "Prob- 
lem of Happiness" — "Problem des Glilcks," Chap. III. 



RELATIONS. 217 

ity of the imagination, so that the fulfillment is not equal to the 
expectation, so there are connected with the satisfaction of desires 
the numerous well-known cases in which the mind is disabused of its 
erroneous notions. The inhabitant of the city wants to get into 
the country, the countryman seeks the city; but when the change 
is made, both find their expectations only partially realized. 



g 84. RELATION OF STRIVING TO THINKING AND FEELING. 

Like feeling, desire also has its seat in a concept mass. 
There is no more an isolated faculty of desire than there is a 
faculty of feeling; desire is, rather, only a form of reciprocal 
action among the concepts. 

Desire is in contrast with feeling, since it has an inde- 
pendent content of its own, whereas feeling is mostly hidden 
in obscurity. In the concept of the desired object, desire 
has a middle point, which is lacking in feeling; for we must 
know what we desire. Ignoti nulla cupido. Therefore, though 
there are vague feelings, there are no vague desires. D 

Yet desires and feelings are closely related and each 
often passes into the other, since the increase and decrease, 
that is, the movement, of impulse is not conceivable without 
the tension of feeling; and, on the other hand, the tension of 
concepts could not exist without a movement among them. 
Hope, love, friendship, homesickness, patriotism, are mental 
states which are characterized alike by desire and feeling. 

In general, however, feeling is a statical, desire a dynam- 
ical act; in feeling, a concept mass is found in equipoise, aris- 
ing through reciprocal tension among its parts — in desire, a 
single concept releases itself from all others, to be either 
exalted or suppressed by them; in the first case the subjec- 
tive state of consciousness may remain as it is, since joy and 



1) Perhaps we may class with vague desires, such coveted privi- 
leges as rest upon very obscure concepts of the things desired; for 
example, the longing of young people to smoke. 



218 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

pain are passively experienced; in the second, the present 
state of consciousness is to be broken up in order actively to 
pass into another state. 

Out of the feeling of pain desire is naturally developed 
as soon as the mental act has reached a certain degree of 
clearness, and the arrest of subordinated concept masses is 
strong enough to offer serious resistance. When one knows 
what the object of discomfort and pain is, it is natural that 
he should strive to set it aside. He who is afflicted with 
homesickness desires to return home; the sick man desires 
health; the prisoner, freedom. Renunciation and prohibition 
cause a certain uncomfortable state within us, on account of 
the pressure they exert upon our ordinary concepts, out of 
which we seek to emerge by desire of the forbidden object 
(nitimur in vetium). 

Desires, therefore, share with feelings all the exigencies 
of the course of representation. But one may more correctly 
speak of a reproduction, a memory and imagination, of desire, 
than of feeling; for, desires depend upon a specific content 
of thought, and return therefore as often as in company 
with their associated concepts they appear in conscious- 
ness. But as the intensity of the helping concepts decreases 
with time, so, also, the energy of desire will diminish; thus 
desires, like feelings, lose intensity with the flight of time. 
If, finally, the furthering concepts become obscured, desire 
sinks to indifference ("out of sight, out of mind"); desire may 
even pass over into its opposite, should the opposing prevail 
over the furthering concepts. Love for an object may, in 
this way, become hate, after illusion has been destroyed by 
an experience which corrects the view. 

Remark 1. — The more our consciousness stands under the influ- 
ence of immediate sensuousness, and the less through lack of psycho- 
logical culture we pay attention to direct relations among the con- 
cepts themselves, the more is the mind opened to the excitements 



*THE INTERACTION OF DESIRES. 219 

caused by desire, and the more does it take on a striving character. 
The child desires all that it sees, and the uncultured man is noted for 
his stormy greediness; the educated man, on the other hand, knows 
how to govern his desires, and the stoic philosopher repelled desire 
and its creating need with logical consistency. 1) We must not con- 
fuse this suppression of desire with the modern blase state, which 
rests upon mental and physical decadence and is related rather to the 
phlegmatic condition of age. 

Remark 2. — The frequent reproduction of a desire may greatly 
increase its strength. In that the concept of the desired object strives 
against its opposing concepts in consciousness, it frees the former 
obscured concept of the same object by immediate reproduction, 
whereby the total power of impulse is greatly strengthened, espe- 
cially when the former desires have been associated with satisfaction, 
because satisfaction implies an overcoming of opposition. In this 
way desires may grow into settled inclination and proneness. 

Remark 3. — Desire surrounds the coveted object with a certain 
interest, and lends it a worth which differs for different persons and 
times according to the relativity of the desire. The thirsty desire 
water; the hungry, food; the bored, entertainment; the tired, rest;" 
the investigator desires the truth; the miserly, money; the impris- 
oned, freedom. Within the circle of desire there are gradually drawn, 
not only objects in themselves worthy of desire, but also others which 
though having no such worthiness in themselves, acquire a certain 
utilitarian value as means for satisfying other desires. Thus desire 
embraces not only ends, but also means; not only the beautiful and 
good, but also the useful; not only the agreeable, but also the dis- 
agreeable, in so far as it serves as a means for the acquirement of a 
greater pleasure. 



I 85. THE INTERACTION OF DESIRES. 

The interaction of desires is given with that of concepts. 
Desires further or assist one another when they are all 

1) The stoical suppression of desire as well as the subduing of 
desires and impulses so popular in the middle ages shoots above the 
mark, for with desire they threaten to eradicate will, and with this 
the true substrate of morality. Not the suppression but the govern- 
ment of desire is what morality demands of us. The enfeebled energy 
of desire and will are morally to be disapproved. 



220 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

directed toward the same object or toward similar objects; 
they hinder or arrest each other when directed toward mu- 
tually excluding objects. Thus, religious impulse is closely 
related to moral impulse, and the two mutually further each 
other; love of native land is not at all in the way of its reform, 
and both may find their satisfaction in the same projects and 
deeds. On the other hand, effort toward scientific progress 
is not compatible with the quest after sensuous dissipation 
(card playing, drinking, etc.), and the two mutually injure 
each other. 

The united nature of the mind appears also in the case 
of desire. Our efforts are the more energetic and persistent 
the more they are directed to one end, with the exclusion of 
all others, and the less they are dissipated by multiplicity 
and contradiction. Pedagogics and psychology should have 
regard to this fact, so that they shall not dissipate and crip- 
ple the mental power of man by setting up too many ends of 
effort. 1 ) Wherever there has been a great work to do, it has 
been accomplished by concentration of effort. (Columbus. 
The principle of division of labor in economic society. ) 

Remark 1. — Things are arranged most favorably, not only for the 
outer result, but for the mental and spiritual' state of man, when all 
efforts, like rays of light, radiate from a central point, and are again 
related back to it. This is not easy, however, with the multitude of 
excitations from within and from without, and presupposes a recipro- 
cal comparison and valuation. Understanding and reason, prudence 
and morality come in here. 

Remark 2. — A conflict in desire arises when one and the same 
object is in one respect desired and in another detested. This is pos- 



1) The pedagogics of the present is in danger of making the 
efforts of the pupil superficial by dissipation. Not only the external 
result, but also the formation of character suffers, if the attention is 
simultaneously directed to too many things (Language, Music, Draw- 
ing, Gymnastics, Dancing, Stenography, and other arts). Unfortu- 
nately the times already make too many demands upon the individual 
in this respect. 



THE INTERACTION OF DESIRES. 221 

sible when two separate fields of thought, M and N, come into con- 
sciousness as opposing forces, whereby one of them, M, seeks to place 
the concept L in a state of augmentation, while the other, N, seeks 
to place it into a condition of opposition, or sinking. The final result 
of this contest will depend' upon which of the lines of thought is 
temporarily able to displace the other. Sense and reason form two 
great departments of thought, which, in certain cases of desire, may 
appear in consciousness as opposed. But also within one and the 
same sphere of ^thought such interests and considerations may arise 
as to bring about a conflict of desire; in the sphere of sense, when 
the agreeable and the disagreeable of different sorts (chirurgical 
operations) struggle with each other; in the sphere of morality, when 
different moral ideas, as, for example, when justice and mercy collide. 
That such conflicts can not occur without a lively agitation of the 
mind, and without accompanying feelings of pain, is a matter of 
course. 



CHAPTER II. 

THE PARTICULAR FORMS OF DESIRE. 

I 86. CLASSIFICATION OF DESIEES. 

We may distinguish the following points in regard to a 
desire: 1) its content, or the concept of the desired object; 
2) its impulse, or motive, as complex of the furthering con- 
cepts which bring the concept of the desired object into a state 
of striving, or impulse; 3) its strength; and 4) its duration. 
According to content, a desire is either sensuous or spiritual. 
(Compare 2 83.) Desire for water is sensuous; that for the 
solution of a problem, for the determination of a historical 
name or date, for the discovery of the truth, — in general, for 
spiritual ends, is a spiritual desire. 

TBe motive of a desire may lie in an uncontrolled play of 
representation or in the understanding or in the reason. 
Upon this fact depends the threefold division of desire into 
desire proper, will, and self-determination. 

Will, as desire guided by understanding, is directed by 
ideas as to the attainability of the object desired, whereby a 
judgment from the side of the understanding is necessary. 
We find here not only the ends desired, but also the means 
which lead to it, no matter whether they are worthy of desire 
or not. The majority of the things for which man strives, 
possessions, riches, business, and so following, are only means 
for reaching higher ends. By the addition of judgment as to 
the attainability of that desired, desire becomes will. 

Finally, however, judgment must turn from the means 
to the ends as such, and raise the question, What in itself, 



CLASSIFICATION OF DESIRES. 223 

without regard to anything else, is worthy of desire? This 
question presupposes a rational reflection. Man is free in 
his action when in a state of reflection, because he then hits 
upon a choice among several offered directions of will. 
Rational desire is therefore free volition, resting upon reflection 
and self-determination. 

Another standpoint for a more graduated subdivision is 
found in the combined relations of the strength and duration 
of desires. According to duration, desires may be divided 
into transitory and habitual (enduring). For the strength 
of desires there is a fixed point in the rising scale where the 
desire ceases to be capable of apperception. Beneath this 
point lie the desires which are still under our control, above 
are the passionate desires; in the former case we control the 
desires; in the latter, they control us. In accordance with 
their idea, the passionate desires belong to the enduring 
class; to which also belong instinct and inclination. 

By the combination of these subdivisions we arrive at 
the following scheme: — 

desires: 

Transitory: Habitual: 

A. The desires proper. 

Sensuous desires. Inclination, pro-*} 

' K. I apperceiv- 
pensity, V *K ' 

Intellectual desires. Instinct, ) 

Passionate desire, not apper- 
ceivable. 

B. The Will. 
External will. Habits of will. 

Action and deed. 
Internal will. Principles of will. 

Voluntary attention. 

C. Self-Determination. 
The single act of self-determination. Character. 



224 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

I 87. IMPULSE. 

Impulse is a permanent natural disposition of man giv- 
ing rise to desires (or detestations) which are fixed as to 
kind, but not as to object. 

It is distinguished from desire by the fact that desire is 
actual, whereas impulse is habitual; and that the concept of 
the desired object precedes the volition in desire, but follows 
it in impulse. 

Impulse has its basis in disagreeable sensations and 
obscure concepts which become the seat of feelings of dis- 
comfort. This vague feeling of discomfort creates the gen- 
eral, indefinable impulse to pass from the painful state of 
mind into a more agreeable one, the way thereto not being indi- 
cated by any clear concept. Impulse is therefore blind, and 
only by means of struggle and accident does man recognize 
in certain objects the natural means of satisfaction for the 
impulse. 

From the unpleasant sensations of hunger and thirst 
there is originally developed a general indefinite impulse to 
remove these sensations in some way. A certain restlessness, 
which expresses itself in stirring and seeking, impels the 
animal and the child, until both, perhaps after many unsuc- 
cessful attempts, find in appropriate food the general means 
for the satisfaction of hunger and thirst. In this way the 
food impulse is formed, which seeks food in general, but not 
a particular food, like oysters or trout. 

The definition of this impulsive disposition implies that 
it is a natural impulse. The disposition toward certain 
desires which habit, education, and culture implant in man, 
though not less habitual and at times not less powerful, are 
thereby excluded. There is no impulse for smoking, for 
ornamentation, or for political freedom, even though the 
struggle for these not seldom appears with all the force of a 
natural impulse. 



IMPULSE. 225 

Impulses may be distinguished as physical and as psy- 
chical, according as their cause lies in the excitation of the 
nerves or of concepts. 

The general excitation of motor nerves and muscles 
creates the impulse to motion, which is particularly active in 
children, but which decreases with the decreasing activity 
of the nerves and muscles in age. The kicking of the infant, 
the wantonness of the boy, the gymnastic play of youth and 
men are an expression of this impulse. Every physical 
restraint (fetters, stocks, etc. ) appears as a painful con- 
dition, because it suppresses this impulse to motion. Other 
physical impulses are those of a sexual nature and those of 
hunger. 

As psychical impulse, we may mention the universal 
concept impulse, which appears as an impulse for spiritual 
food, and which has its basis in the struggle for movement 
among the concepts. Spiritual ennui, brought about by a 
lack of sufficient flow of representation, is a well-known tor- 
menting condition; whereas entertainment, with its free 
change of concepts, is the most desired form of satisfaction 
for this state. 

Other psychical impulses are those for communication 
and society. In a certain sense, there may also be added the 
impulsive desire for honor, possession, and dominion. 

There are also mixed impulses, whose explanation is to 
be sought as well in the bodily as in the spiritual organi- 
zation of man. Among these may be classed the impulse to 
activity arising from the desire for physical motion and for 
mental movement, and the general impulse for preservation 
which causes man to undertake everything in order to sustain 
his own existence and to rescue it from danger. 1 ) 

1) From the circumstance that he is often unskillful in this, since, 
for example, when in danger of drowning, he raises his arms out of 
the water instead of keeping them under, thus promoting his own 
sinking, it does not follow that he has no impulse towards self-preser- 



226 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

In the animal world impulse takes the form of instinct, 
of which merely a few beginnings are found in reflex-action. 
(Comp. § 25.) Instinct is distinguished from impulse in the 
fact that it leads not only to desire, but to its satisfaction. 
It rests upon such a constitution of the animal organism that, 
on account of a sensation arising in the seat of desire, the 
organism produces of itself movements which lead to the 
satisfaction of this desire, after the analogy of reflex-action, 
and thereby secure the preservation and continuation of 
organic life. The intelligence which directs man in his move- 
ments and deeds is mostly represented by instinct in the 
animal world, in accordance with which animals act in the 
choice of food, the structure of dwelling place (nest), in mi- 
grations, and cunning artifices. 

Remark. — As contrasted with man, the animal is in every respect 
more limited, and his bodily structure is therefore pre-formed for par- 
ticular movements and activities, which, stimulated by instinct, give 
rise to the movements necessary to satisfy the awakened desire. The 
young duck knows instinctively, upon its first contact with water, that 
its body is adapted to the water, and also through what movements it 
can sustain itself therein. In the same way men have explained the 
art instincts of certain animals having peculiarly constructed organs; 
these animals need only to produce activity in the mechanism of their 
organs, when after a few attempts the movement is directed of itself 
along the lines which correspond to the idea realized in the organism 
of the animal; the spider will spin, the beaver will build. It is a 
more difficult matter when we try to explain the particulars of 
instinctive activities in these animals, and to tell why it is that bees 
always build six-sided cells, that every nightingale follows the note 
peculiar to its species, that the political constitution of the ant state 
is the same in all places, and that every individual ant, without much 
instruction, adjusts itself to the social order. These individual facts 



vation, but only that he is lacking in the instinct which, for illustra- 
tion, guides the aquatic animal. Should man live more in water, 
experience would soon teach him to make the right motions, and to 
satisfy the impulse for self-preservation in the water as he does upon 
the land by keeping his equilibrium, and so forth. 



INCLINATION AND PROPENSITY. 227 

seem to prove that instinct can do much, but not all, that even here 
much is determined by change in impressions of sense arising from 
the immediate neighborhood; for we see animals taking account of 
changeable locality in which they find themselves. We see them in 
their activities repeating unsuccessful efforts, improving the deficient, 
etc. The wasp, for instance, uses in building its nest a paper-like 
mass made from wood shavings and water; but if ready-made paper 
is at hand, it chooses this before all else. 



§ 88. INCLINATION AND PROPENSITY. 

Desire is an individual, transitory act — impulse an inner 
disposition, which ever excites anew a specific longing. In- 
clination also, with its opposite, disinclination, is a disposi- 
tion to a particular desire or the opposite, and manifests 
itself in frequently returning desires of the same sort. 

While, however, impulse lies deeply grounded in human 
nature and is therefore permanent, inclination has its root 
in a specific round of concepts, which arising in a psychical 
manner, may again be destroyed. Inclinations have there- 
fore something changeable in them, and vary with the trend 
of thought from which they sprang. The inclinations of the 
youth are different from those of the man. 

If a desire is often in consciousness it becomes a habit, 
and produces an inclination. D When one has often satisfied 
the desire to play chess, it is possible that this desire should 
become a habit, and therefore an inclination. 

It is known that the inclinations of man attach not only 
to his habits but to his natural capacities, or aptitudes. We 



1) As is known, the satisfaction of desire is accompanied by 
feelings of pleasure; these attach themselves to the concept of the 
desired objects as "helps," and thus bring this concept into the state 
of striving with an ease corresponding to the number of times which 
we have already satisfied the desire. There is thus formed in the 
compass of thought which surrounds the given concept a disposition 
to desire, which we call inclination. This disposition will lead to 
actual desire as often as thought turns to the given group of concepts. 



228 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

understand by these the sum of certain organic conditions 
which are favorable to a given activity. The greater the 
aptitude of a man for anything, so much the easier will he 
form an inclination for it; for the capacity insures the suc- 
cess, and the feeling of successful activity (§ 69) makes the 
return of the desire a wished-for consummation; i. e., leads 
desire over into inclination. Man will scarcely form an incli- 
nation for that for which he lacks natural aptitude. Edu- 
cation must take special note of aptitude and inclination. 

Where natural disposition is favorable to an inclination, 
or when it has grown up with us through long habit, incli- 
nation becomes propensity. It is an inclination so strong that 
it acts like a natural impulse, and is often mistaken for it. 

The opposite of inclination is aversion, as disposition to 
shun an object. 

Remark 1. — The aptitudes of men are intimately connected with 
their bodily organization, especially with certain peculiarities of the 
nervous system, both of central parts and peripheral ramifications. 
A hearing sensitive to differences in tone gives aptitude for music; a 
fine sense of form, coupled with especially favorable structure of 
hand, gives capacity for sculpture; an active fancy, combined with 
aesthetic taste, gives aptitude for poetry. Those inclinations of men 
which are founded upon clearly marked aptitudes, often manifest an 
energy and persistence which place them near to natural impulses. 
The painter must paint, though with charcoal on the wall; the musi- 
cian must sing; the poet must write. 

Remark2. — Where the object of inclination or aversion is a human 
being, the name love or hate is used. Yet these terms are used meta- 
phorically for soulless things. Thus the musician loves his violin, the 
gardener his flowers, etc. Love and hate are distinguished from 
simple desire or aversion through the fact that the preservation of 
the loved or hated object is considered, and that the attractive or 
repulsive feeling may be constant. Not only love preserves its object, 
but hate also nourishes it, in order the longer to persecute it 



RULING PASSIONS. 229 

I 89. RULING PASSIONS. 

Impulse, inclination, and propensity contain in them- 
selves dispositions to desire which manifest themselves in a 
great variety of desires. But these desires are capable of 
being subordinated by principles (apperceiving), — the ego of 
man, wherein principles have their basis, shows itself stronger 
than the desire, the inclination, or the proneness, and even 
natural impulse itself may be held within bounds by rational 
reflection. 

A strong desire is not in itself a ruling passion. It be- 
comes such when it penetrates all fields of thought, subordi- 
nating the whole mind with all its interests to itself, and 
suffering no higher power along side itself in consciousness. 
A passion in the broad sense is therefore a desire which has 
grown so strong that it no longer suffers itself to be apperceived, 
but itself rules consciousness as an apperceiving concept mass. 

In this there is something anomalous and wrong, for the 
highest apperceiving concept mass ought not to be a desire, 
but rather a rational insight. 1 ) The cou sequence of this 
anomaly is a more or less significant change in the estimation 
of the value of the various interests and affairs of men. The 
objective measure of value is lost when the sway of reason is 
abolished, 2 ) and that of subjective, one-sided passion is estab- 
lished, whereby things assume a worth according as they 
serve as means for the satisfaction of passionate desire. 

In another sense also the mental state of the passionate 
" suffers. " Health of mental life consists in the capacity of 

1) In regard to its origin, desire always contains an element of 
the accidental, is subordinated in its course to constant modifications 
and contains the source of constant agitations of feeling. Such a 
concept structure, thoroughly dependent on subjective conditions, 
does not suffice for the rule of consciousness, which should be gov- 
erned rather by a permanent insight, fixed by objective determina- 
tions; i. e., by understanding and reason. 

2) Not that insight is totally wanting; it is there, but it is like 
the voice of a traveler in a desert. 



230 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

the concepts to be reciprocally determined, the one by the 
other. In this sense the passionate man is not entirely sound 
mentally; because with him this reciprocal determinable 
character of the concepts is lost, and the passion concepts 
rule the whole consciousness, without allowing themselves to 
be adjusted by other concept groups, however important. 
Passion is blind and deaf to all opposing concepts of insight. 
The gambler can not leave his play, although his friends or 
his best friend, and his own reason, prove to him beyond a 
shadow of a doubt that he will ruin himself and his family 
by gambling. The passionate man is neither rational nor 
free in his action, because he conducts himself in opposition 
to his better judgment and his own ego, in which this judg- 
ment in the form of an apperceiving concept mass constitutes 
an important part. 

The disturbed mental health of the passionate man is 
revealed to the dispassionate observer in the fact that the 
object of the passion is not worthy of being made the center 
of all striving and sensibility; and that even where the object 
is a noble one in itself, as for instance, native land or nation 
or freedom, the victim of passion does not, in his action, hold 
himself free from extreme estimation of its importance, as 
contrasted with other interests of man. 

Remark 1. — An essential element in passion is its duration, because 
this is an important condition of its strength. A passionate outburst 
may well be a violent emotion, but it is not a passion. Traces of pas- 
sionate striving are found in all men. It is a matter of reason and 
moral duty to suppress passion in its earliest stages. (The term pas- 
sion is also used to describe sudden and violent outbursts of emotion, 
as of anger. — Tr.) 

Remark 2. — The man who is ruled by a passion finds himself in a 
very anomalous mental condition; with him the center of gravity for 
his mental life is shifted to the group of concepts which pertain to 
the object of his passionate desire, all other interests being violently 
shoved aside. He regards nothing not connected in some way with 



GROWTH OF PASSION. 231 

the object of his desire; the miser regards the world from the stand- 
point of possession, the ambitious man from that of distinction above 
others, the sensualist from that of ihe gratification of the senses. 
For the victim of passion, nature in vain unrolls the sublime picture 
of her eternal rest; he is blind to her ever renewed beauty, dull to 
the pleasures of art, deaf to the teachings of science. Desire is alone 
able to move him. The gambler has thought only for the gaming table, 
the miser only for the accumulation of useless property, the sensual- 
ist only for the images of pleasure. The noble enjoyments which offer 
themselves upon all sides to the unbiased mind — the panorama of 
colors, the harmony of tones, the association with noble minded men, 
the stimulus of intellectual and aesthetic pleasures; poetry, art, liter- 
ature — all go for nothing to the mind closed by a passion. 



I 90. THE GROWTH OF PASSION; ITS RISE AND DECLINE. 

A passion is a desire grown dominant. Since every desire 
has its root in a particular concept mass, the rise of a pas- 
sion presupposes the formation of an exclusive concept group, 
in which it rests, and from which it draws its strength. This 
exclusive group of concepts must also be the strongest known 
to consciousness. All other concepts of the man, together 
with their attendant feelings and desires, must be subordi- 
nated to this one. 

The desire may obtain this firm concept basis by taking 
its rise either in the natural impulses or in those habits and 
inclinations which have become second nature; these may 
indeed become passions as well by means of excess as through 
lack of satisfaction. 

Desire strengthens with every gratification (Comp. \ 84; 
also the Remark). If a man neglects to suppress the growing 
desire now and then with other nobler and opposing aspira- 
tions, if he fails to apperceive it by means of stronger con- 
cept masses; if on the contrary he gives it "free rein, it may 
well happen that the desire will pass from the stages of incli- 



232 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

nation and propensity into that of passion. Most passions 
arise from lack of moral discipline, and the older they grow, 
the more difficult does their mastery become. 

Entire denial of satisfaction, especially with melancholy 
natures, may inflame the powerful desire into a passion. 
External opposition to satisfaction erects a dam, against 
which the stream of desire struggles. If the stream is too 
weak to break down the dam, it dashes itself against it, 
spreads over the surface, and finds an outlet in other en- 
deavors; if powerful enough, it breaks the dam, and rushes 
on with unchecked freedom. Unsatisfied desire may also be 
transformed into a silent longing; or, increasing with oppo- 
sition, it may grow into a passion. 1 ) 

In the moment when the powerful desire increases to a 
passion, it at once takes on the deceptive guise of freedom 
and of strength of character. The old historical ego concept, 
with its apperceiving masses of concepts, is indeed sup- 
pressed, but a new ego — the man of passion — takes its place, 
and this ego knows no opposition, no reflection, no choice of 
means. If the object of the passion chances to be a noble 
one, as, for example, patriotism, friendship, national or 
humanitarian endeavor, it may be that in this stage of passion 
great things may be done. The great deeds of history, which 
we to-day admire, have mostly sprung from noble passion. 

But the apparent freedom and grandeur of passion 
diminish according as the contradictions come to light, which 
exist between the whole field of thought in passion, its under- 
takings and deeds, and the old historical ego of the man and 
his better (moral) insight. These contradictions are never 
lacking, and a noted psychologist (W. F. Volkmann) remarks, 
' < The freedom of passion would only be true freedom if there 



1) The oft-cited expression of Rochefoucauld is here appropriate, 
that opposition is \o our passions what the storm wind is to burning 
brands; the smaller are extinguished, but the larger are fanned into 
flame. 



GROWTH OF PASSION. 233 

were no conscience." From Diderot to Hegel, passion has 
not lacked for advocates who have sought to derive all great 
things from it; but even if passion is not at all times immoral 
(think of fanatics in humanitarianism and religion), it is 
at least always dangerous to morality, because it may at any 
instant collide with the conscience of man, when the latter 
must succumb (as, for example, when a fanatic in well-doing 
would steal leather from the rich in order to make shoes for 
the poor). 

Passion furnishes a still sadder picture in the stage of 
inevitable degeneration. The charm of desire is dulled by 
excessive gratification, the break between the passionate 
consciousness and conscience gives rise to bitter remorse, 
and the feeling of power, apparently so great in the man of 
passion, collapses into pitiful helplessness. It is seldom that 
man is stimulated by passion to a moral life; in many cases 
the result is spiritual and physical degeneration, so that pas- 
sion breathes out its life in bursts of enfeebled emotion or 
ends in despair. 

Remark. — To guard against passion is one of the chief duties 
of man. He will not easily sink beneath the yoke of passion if accus- 
tomed to a moral discipline through early obedience to the commands 
of parent and teacher, as well as to the regulations of society (civil 
and local), through strictness and toughening, moderation and absti- 
nence, the avoidance of eccentric pleasures, and above all through 
yielding to a habit of thought rich in moral ideals. The curing of 
passion will be so much the more difficult, the more it has fastened its 
roots in the whole consciousness, and the more sensuous passion, e. g., 
drunkenness, has found a strengthening resonance in the organic 
changes in the body. Here the food of passion must be withdrawn; 
i. e., it must be forcibly torn away from the compass of thought in 
which it has its seat. To this end certain soul doctors have recom- 
mended the transference of the subject into another and opposing 
passion, which is evidently absurd. An elevated view into a world of 
ideal moral relations is better for the patient than the fog of a new 
passion. "Great interests cure the littleness of passion." A noble 



234 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

friend, an elevating lecture, scientific study, enjoyment of art, relig- 
ious culture, but above all a moral deed, may be the guide-post to a 
new, harmonious, and satisfactory life. Here, least of all, will gruff 
opposition and barbarous treatment produce good results. "On the 
contrary, the experience has recently been made that even ferocious 
beasts can be made gentle by good care which relieves and anticipates 
their needs. What is to hinder the assumption that the rapacity of 
the tiger and the hyena is a passion which arose from acute unsatis- 
fied hunger and then became habitual? We see at least that the 
chained dog is made as ferocious by his long suffering as would be 
the case with a man." (Herbart Psych., II., p. 112.) 



I 91. VAEIETIES OF PASSION. 

Any desire may become a passion, as soon as it obtains 
an apperceiving influence over all concept masses of the 
(potential) consciousness, and it remains such as long as this 
influence continues. 

A strong motive, such as is offered through the senses, 
is important here. On this account most passions arise from 
natural impulses, the physical as well as the psychical. 

The food impulse may degenerate into gluttony and 
drunkenness (intemperance in eating, and drinking) — the 
sexual impulse into lust — the general impulse of self-preser- 
vation into selfishness, which recognizes nothing but self — 
the impulse to activity into a passion for play (not that which 
arises from a love of gain) and entertainment — the impulse 
to communicate into love of gossip — the social impulse to 
love, which may also become passionate, and may embrace 
the individual, the family, the nation, and even all humanity 
in fanatical friendship, family love, or patriotism. 

Rudely repulsed in its devotion to another personality, 
love, in consequence of injured feeling of self, springs into 
its opposite, hate, which is mostly directed towards individ- 
uals. While love, uncertain of its object, is tormented with 
jealousy, hate breaks out in search for revenge or humiliation. 



VARIETIES OF PASSION. 235 

Honor, passion, power, appear to selfishness as the high- 
est objects of desire, and hence selfishness manifests itself as 
ambition, avarice, and struggle for dominion. Ambition 
seeks recognition of the personal ego in the consciousness of 
other persons; it is not ignoble when it is satisfied with the 
quiet recognition and moral approval of others; it becomes 
vanity, however, when it seeks for outer acknowledgment of 
inner worth; it is transformed into pride and haughtiness 
when it elevates itself above others, underestimating them; 
or it becomes the pursuit of fame when its aspirations fly- 
higher. Niggardliness and avarice, as passionate pursuit 
after possession, try to bring material wealth under the 
sway of the ego, in order to make it the means of satisfying 
desire; they overshoot the mark, however, because in the 
gathering of wealth they forget its purpose, and thus make 
the means an end. 

The struggle for dominion ignores dead property, but 
seeks to bring other free and equal personalities under the 
rule of the one ego. This is what brings slavery and despot- 
ism into the world's history, and, as a reaction, produces the 
mania for liberty, which in its passionate state manifests 
itself as " despotism from beneath upward." 

The scheme of the passions is not yet concluded; for not 
only may each passion mentioned be shaped according to the 
individual qualities of its object, as well as the minor modes of 
its origination (what aspects do not love and hate assume ?) , but 
it may produce entirely unique relations and passions; e. g., 
the mania for gathering postage stamps, 1 ) for betting, etc. 
"Wherever passion applies itself with one-sided exclusiveness, 
as, for example, in gathering postage stamps, it takes on the 
character of monomania, and approaches very close to insanity. 

1) There are now several newspapers for stamp collectors. The 
melancholy disposition of the English is very favorable to the rise of 
monomania; yet the same characteristic is also found upon the con- 
tinent. 



236 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

Remark. — Crudity as well as culture has its passions. In the for- 
mer they arise from the lack of apperceiving concepts; in the latter 
from the many needs which culture produces. 



§ 92. VIOLENT EMOTION AND PASSION. 

Passion as a permanent mental state is not seldom con- 
founded with violent emotion (passion in the narrow sense). 
As a matter of fact, the two states are related, since in both 
free self-determination is altered and the normal equipoise of 
the concepts powerfully disturbed on account of the suppres- 
sion of the ego concept. 

But with sudden emotion this disturbance is momentary, 
being conditioned by physiological reaction; it is lasting, 
however, with passion, on account of permanent distortion 
of the whole round of spiritual interests of man. Both are 
blind, because they destroy a correct perception of things as 
they are. But this blindness, in the case of sudden emotion, 
arises from the suppression of the activity of the understand- 
ing (thought in general); in the case of passion, from the 
arrest of the activity of reason. The man with a ruling pas- 
sion is blind to everything which lies outside the realm of 
concepts pertaining to his passion; within this realm he often 
develops a sharp power of vision and a great acuteness in 
the choice of means to the desired end, which is not the case 
with those emotions which rob man of his power of reflection. 

Euling passions and violent emotions are to be dis- 
tinguished also in other respects. The latter arise from feel- 
ings, but passions from desire; violent emotions are more 
superficial, passions have their roots deep in the mind; these 
emotions embrace the actual, passions the potential con- 
sciousness (? 27); on account of their violence, emotions are 
expressed physically, passions are compatible with the utmost 
outward quiet and coolness; emotion undermines more the 



VIOLENT EMOTION AND PASSION 237 

bodily welfare, passion endangers the mental health and the 
moral state of man. 

The one is more acute, the other more chronic: hence 
the principle, — the more violent emotion, the less passion; e. g. , 
the easier the equipoise of the concepts is raised to the height 
of violent emotion through momentary influences, the more 
difficult will it be to produce that permanent, all embracing, 
distorted state of mind, which is the essence of passion. 

Yet there are states of mind in which passion and vio- 
lent emotion go hand in hand. If the latter is repeated often 
enough, it may become fixed as a passion — passion may tem- 
porarily break out into violence. The paroxysms of passion 
are these same violent emotions (passions in the sorrow sense). 

In this respect, however, the passions vary greatly. 
Some whose passions spread out over the whole potential con- 
sciousness and in this way acquire a very broad basis, are 
very free from agitations of emotion; as, for example, the cool, 
calculating miser. Others, with whom the sickness of the 
soul is centered in a very limited group of concepts, break 
out so much the easier into violent emotions, as is the case 
with love and hate. 

Remark 1. — Passion produces a one-sided narrowing of attention 
to its peculiar line of thought; it arms the eye for this group of con- 
cepts, while diminishing its power for all else (keenness of jealousy, 
of avarice). This one-sidedness makes itself felt in thinking through 
the warped but often very acute judgments of the man of passion. 
Memory and imagination are active within this one-sided sphere; 
reason and self-consciousness (the historical ego) are more or less 
suppressed. 

Remark 2. — It was one of the many services of Kant to psychol- 
ogy sharply to distinguish between passion and violent emotion. The 
works of Maas-and Feuchtersleben are worthy of note as contribu- 
tions to the literature of the passions, and among the older writers, 
those of Descartes and Spinoza. 



CHAPTER III. 

WILL. 
\ 93. WILL IN GENERAL. 

Desire in accordance with its idea seeks satisfaction. If 
this appears impossible, the impulse remains mere wish, and 
has no further significance; but if to the desire there is added 
a belief in the attainability of the object of desire, the desire 
passes into will, which reveals itself in action and deeds. 

An object of desire is attainable when it appears as the 
final member of a series of changes which are related as cause 
and effect, the first member of the series proceeding from 
the ego who wills. If such a causal series comes to the sup- 
port of any desire, the desire is transformed into will; the 
object is not only desired, it is willed; there is no insurmount- 
able obstacle in the way of the realization of the desire. 

The construction of such a causal series is a matter of 
the understanding, in connection with memory and imagi- 
nation. Memory calls up causal series (? 35) which, as ex- 
perience in various cases has shown, have led to certain 
definite results, and imagination constructs, if need be, vari- 
ous needful modifications and combinations of these series, 
the judgment must choose from among them those which will 
lead most surely to the desired object. The acuteness of 
the understanding is shown in this choice. 

Will means, then, the desire for a certain result, and 
the certainty of its attainment, or at least a belief in the 
attainability of the desired object; for in the mental state 



WILL IN GENERAL. 239 

called will it is indifferent whether the causal series actually 
leads to the attainment of the desire or not; the subjective 
conviction, the belief in the attainability of what is desired 
is here sufficient. The impossible may therefore be willed as 
soon as it appears to us as possible; and for the same reason 
we can only desire that which is really possible and practi- 
cable, so long as we are lacking in insight as to ways and 
means of reaching it. The unreasoning child wills that 
which th^ adult merely desires; the inexperienced youth wills 
far more than the man, who has often tested his strength in 
trying to realize his desires. 

The clearer the insight as to the attainability of an ob- 
ject, the more conscious a man is that he can obtain what he 
desires, the stronger his will is. 

But since actual experience alone can give true informa- 
tion regarding this point, will increases in energy with the 
number of actually attained results, and we appear with the 
greatest decision and firmness of will upon those fields in 
which repeated experience has taught the effectiveness of our 
powers in reaching results sought for. 

Remark 1. — Hence the modesty of will with which the first 
attempts in a new field are made, and the increasing confidence and 
even audacity which follow repeated success. How weak and anxious 
the will of a rope-walker is likely to be which induces him for the 
first time to mount the rope, and with what courage he goes upon it 
after the experience of many years has taught him his own power! 
The oftener in general the volitional acts of a man are crowned with 
success, the more does the habit of seeing his desires gratified grow 
upon him, and the more frequently does desire pass into willing. 
Hence his displeasure when fate denies satisfaction to such a man. 

Remark 2. — Herbart characterizes willing very happily. "He 
who says, 'I will' has already mastered the future in his thought; he 
sees himself already completing, possessing, enjoying. Show him 
that he can not, he wills no longer, provided he understands you. 
The desire may perhaps remain, and rave tumultuously or attempt to 



240 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

gain satisfaction with all cunning. In this fact there is a new exer- 
cise of will, not exerted towards the object directly, but towards the 
movements which one makes when he knows himself master of them, 
hoping by means of skillful combination to reach the desired end. 
The field marshal desires to conquer, therefore he maneuvers with 
his troops; he would not will to do this, were he not conscious of his 
power of command. 



\ 94. DEVELOPMENT OF WILL. 

Desire is at first a blind impulse, without relation to the 
attainability of the object desired. It is not even a wish, so 
far as this is based upon a resignation of the actual attain- 
ment of its object, and hence upon the judgment regarding 
its attainability. 

Each of the more intensive impulses places one in a cer- 
tain mental unrest, which manifests itself in a kind of bodily 
activity; i. e., in movements. These movements are orig- 
inally — in the undeveloped child and the animal — out of all 
relation to the desired result; and, at most, can be regarded 
only as blind attempts to reach this result. The infant gropes 
with its hands, and the young chick pecks about aimlessly. 

By and by, beginning to succeed through accident, imi- 
tation, and the guidance of individual attempts, man and 
animal learn to manage the machinery of the body (compare 
I 35). They get the experience that certain bodily move- 
ments lead to the attainment of what is desired. 

With the bodily movements, however, other and external 
results appear, which, though not immediately desired, lead 
by longer or shorter paths to the attainment of the object of 
desire. The movement is here the beginning member of a 
series, at whose close the desired result stands. If the final 
member of this causal series is desired, all the other mem- 
bers of the series arise to consciousness according to the laws 
of reproduction (2 32), and these likewise fall into the state 



DEVELOPMENT OF WILL, 241 

of striving. They appear as means, which are in this state, 
not for their sake, but for the sake of the end to be reached. 
Thus the end may elevate, but not sanctify the means. 

By means of these causal series, our experience is ever 
widened concerning the serviceability of the movements of 
the body, and the adaptability of external things as means 
to the desired end. If, in any specific case of desire, we 
succeed in constructing such a causal series from our former 
experience, the outer result is not only desired, but expected 
as soon as the first member of the causal series appears. 
This expectation is expressed in the formula, "I will," which 
means, "I can, and I shall," — if not synonymous with "It 
will," when the outer result for a time fails to appear, or 
the judgment was erroneous, or when unforeseen events are 
able to turn the series of changes aside from the desired 
consequence. 

Not only memory, but also imagination must assist in 
the construction of the causal series, which sometimes assumes 
an exceptional length. It is not a single series, but a whole 
web of series that the imagination weaves, and which is 
designed to lead from the desire to its satisfaction. The 
paths through this texture, which suffer various modifi- 
cations in the various stages of will according to time and 
circumstances, are plans. (Plans of generals and chess play- 
ers — plans of passion.) 

With this kind of carefully planned undertakings of the 
will, it is not only the first member of the causal series from 
which the will-activity proceeds, as in one simple act of the 
will (death stroke); but the activity expands into a series of 
actions, with which the corresponding changes of the external 
world go parallel as partial results, which finally lead to the 
final result (winning a game or battle — satisfaction of a pas- 
sion). According as the partial results occur, are modified 
or do not come to pass, the further procedure in the plan of 



242 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

action must be changed. Here, above all, foresight and pres- 
ence of mind are necessary. 

The partial results and the means by which the will- 
activity pursues its course may, in themselves, be not only 
indifferent, but even detested objects. We often desire a cer- 
tain result, but detest the ways and means which lead to it, 
because, in themselves, they are unpleasant or offensive. 
Indolence desires the good, but does not will it, on account 
of shunning its difficulties. 

Such opposition, against which the will strikes, assumes 
the character of difficulties and hindrances, on which the 
power (energy) of the will may be measured. The weak will 
abandons its proposed ends, and lets the hands fall into the 
lap, as soon as its way is crossed by opposing forces; the ener- 
getic will strides over all hindrances to its appointed goal. 

Thus in its consequences, which may be turned aside by 
opposing influences, the will shows itself to be a true and 
actual power, and reveals itself as such in the struggle with 
nature and with the opposing effects of other wills. 

Remark. — The energy of will, which is an object of immediate 
moral approval, can only gradually be developed by means of persist- 
ent actual will-attempts and will-actions and presupposes a certain 
callousness of feeling, in contrast to the present very common devia- 
tions on account of feeling, by which all great and difficult undertak- 
ings are ruined. An Argonautic expedition, a lion hunt in Central 
Africa, the ascent of the Gross Glockner, a north pole expedition — ■ 
all these are executed, but the preservation of untarnished honor and 
of clear conscience upon the Argonautic journey of human life is a 
task which summons up the full will-power of man. 



§ 95. OUTWARD EFFECT OF WILL. ACTION AND DEED. 

It lies in the nature of will to act. An inactive will 
would not deserve the name, but would be mere desire. 



OUTWARD EFFECT OF WILL. 243 

Action, in a general sense, is a movement of the limbs 
as the beginning member of a series of changes, for the pur- 
pose of attaining what is willed. Deed is the sum of those 
voluntarily produced changes of the outer world, which pro- 
ceed from the action. The deed is, therefore, that result of 
willing which has become objective through action. 

Will passes into action and deed when the ego produces 
the beginning member of that causal series which constitutes 
an integral element of the act of willing. This production 
presupposes the mastery of the mind over the movements of 
the body; 1 ) a mastery which with animals is given by nature 
in the limited, machine-like contrivance of their bodies, but 
which is attained by man only by means of painful practice 
and extension, beginning with the earliest childhood, and 
never concluding. 

Not only sense-perceptions but muscular sensations are 
associated with the movements of the limbs. With a lively 
concept of a movement, A, which is to be executed, there is 
reproduced the muscular sensation, a, which is peculiar to it. 
In so far as the latter has the requisite degree of strength, 
it acts upon the motor nerves after the manner of reflex- 
action, through an excitation proceeding outward from a 
central organ, so that through this action the conceived 
movement is brought to pass by means of contraction of the 
muscles. 



1) Injury to the body, weakness of the muscular system limits 
the mastery of the soul over the body, and makes man partially or 
wholly incapable of action. The rigid tetanus spasm, as a total ces- 
sation of muscular activity, makes every manifestation of will and 
of mental state impossible. One in this condition must quietly suffer 
himself to be laid on the bier, etc. Yet it must not be overlooked 
that under certain very favorable circumstances, the slightest move- 
ments suffice to give the will an energetic expression; as, e. #., the 
wink of a king, the gesture of a general, upon which the life and 
death of thousands depend. Very correctly does Horace express the 

supreme power of Jupiter with the words: " imperium est 

Jovis, cuncta supercilio moventis." 



244 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

The extraordinary capacity of the body for culture as an 
all-sided and serviceable instrument of the soul, depends upon 
a successive accommodation of the bodily movements to the 
desired result. Just as the child learns the first clumsy use 
of its hands, so afterwards it gradually learns the guidance 
of the pen, the brush, the chisel, the bow; and just as the 
infant learns the first balancing exercises of standing and 
walking, so afterwards it learns dancing, rope-walking, etc. 

The deed is the sum of the outer changes which the will 
produces by action in the external world, yet only in so far 
as the changes correspond #feo the expectations of the will. 
The outer changes introduced by the actions, depend partly 
upon the will and the action, but partly also upon the nature 
of the outer things with which the action comes in contact. 
Only in so far as the changes produced by this second outer 
factor were foreseen do they belong to the deed. 

The deed is, therefore, the agreement between what is 
willed and what is accomplished, between design and result. 
The deed reaches only so far as the two coincide. The judg- 
ment as to how far a given result is a deed, is a matter of 
imputation. 

Remark. — The actual execution of a conceived movement, A, pre- 
supposes the reproduction of the associated muscular sensation, a, 
up to a certain degree of intensity. If this muscular sensation is 
wholly wanting or only faintly reproduced, the movement, A, although 
conceived, is not executed. With sense-perceptions, as is well known, 
bodily sensations can not, under normal conditions be reproduced, so 
that the intensity of these sensations is lost (Comp. § 34), and the 
satisfaction of a desire resting upon the production of a sense-percep- 
tion, is not to be thought of when the perception is merely reproduced. 
The case is otherwise with movements; here the real follows the con- 
ceived movement by means of the reproduced muscular sensations, 
often involuntarily; as the movements of hand and foot in imitation, 
the movements of the organs of speech in thinking aloud, etc. 
Through the inner union of the muscular sensation with the concept 
of the motion, the certainty and rapidity in the execution of desired 



INWABD EFFECT OF WILL. 245 

movements are brought about, together with that finer shading which 
we admire in the virtuoso of every kind (gymnasts, musicians, work- 
men, operators, and the like). On account of the enormous wealth 
of motions and their gradations, it ought not to surprise us that the 
formation of the requisite associations costs time and labor, and that 
not seldom a failure to make the right movement occurs, because of 
the reproduction of the wrong muscular sensations. When the sharp- 
shooter, or the billiard-player aims, when the gymnast reflects though 
ready to spring, he is seeking in memory for the right muscular sen- 
sation which shall lead to the desired movement, and he thereby 
manifests a lack of the virtuoso's skill The chirurgical operator 
must not hesitate; he must cut as soon as he applies the knife. Only 
by means of continued practice do the associations gain firmness, the 
motions certainty. 



I 96. INWARD EFFECT OF WILL. FREEDOM IN MENTAL 

STATES. 

Outwardly the dominion of the will manifests itself 
through interference with the course of events, by means of 
actions and deeds, inwardly, through interference with the 
course of representation, by means of that mental activity 
which we call voluntary attention, and direction of the course 
of thought. 

It is well known that one may "at will"; i. e., at pleas- 
ure, concentrate his attention now upon this, now upon that 
object, can give his thoughts now this, now that direction. 
Desire, volition, and satisfaction here follow in immediate 
succession. That which is here desired is the clear repre- 
sentation of what is now hovering in consciousness as mere 
outline. This representation is willed when, according to 
the experiences made by inner sense activity regarding the 
course of our concepts, the means have been learned by 
which one can direct the course of representation to a given 
point, or concentrate it in particular concepts. Thus, the 
desired mental state is often found at the close of a known 



246 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

concept series; this can be reached by running through the 
series, after calling the beginning member into consciousness. 
If, for example, a narrator wishes to tell a story, he knows 
that he must first think of its beginning, etc. 

According as the concept mass to be produced by the 
will belongs to memory or to imagination, this process will 
belong to voluntary remembrance, or voluntary imagination. 

In regard to thinking, will activity manifests itself in 
reflection; i. e. , in voluntary direction of the course of repre- 
sentation upon the object of thought. 

The isolation of individual masses of concepts from their 
psychical connections, and their transformation into notions 
is thereby essentially promoted. 

Remark 1. — This section appears to contain a difficulty, because 
one does not at once see how, alongside of the government by the 
laws of reproduction, a second dominion, namely, that of the will, 
can interfere in the course of associations and series. Yet the diffi- 
culty is resolved when one reflects that the will, which directs the 
course of representation, is itself only a product of the reciprocal 
actions of concepts, which are governed by the laws of reproduction, 
and that it is by no means a foreign product. But if these will acts 
are produced together, they cross, and concentrate the series of the 
thought complex in a manifold way, since by means of insight, an 
essential element of will, they direct the series. The insight into the 
connection of concepts, which even with those who are not psychol- 
ogists is gained by inner sense activity in an empirical manner, 
reveals the means for producing desired states of mind. It is a well- 
known fact, that one may at will produce unusual feelings and states 
of mind; as, e. g., gayety, gravity, sadness, and even of devotion, by 
an appropriate "concentration" or "diversion" of thought. 

Remark 2. — Thought in most cases is mediated by action of the 
will. The fixing of notions is made possible by voluntarily turning 
the attention away from all the minor determinations pressing into 
consciousness upon all sides, and which are more or less accidental to 
the desired state of thought. The repulsion of these foreign and 
disturbing elements of consciousness requires a significant effort of 
the will, and with long continuation of thought, leads to that weari- 



REFLECTION AND SELF-DETERMINATION. 247 

ness which one notices upon giving himself up for a long while to 
concept masses which are to be held firmly in consciousness, among 
which are found those pertaining to labor. But in labor the persist- 
ent concept mass is fixed by some object of sense with which one 
busies himself, whereas in thought, which has to do mainly with 
abstract notions, there would be no such fixing through sense, did not 
the audible and visible signs of language take the place of other 
sense objects. Hence from this side also we arrive at the conclusion 
that thought without speech could have but a feeble existence. When 
we here present will as existing in the sense of thought, we wish by 
no means to assert that the creations of thought are the products of 
subjective will. No view could be more incorrect than this. Will 
merely prepares the ground of consciousness for the activity of 
thought, in that it can give to the concepts meeting there those rela- 
tions which alone answer to their objective quality. To try to force 
them into other than these relations by subjective will, would be as 
vain as the effort to see black where there is only white. 



I 97. REFLECTION AND SELF-DETERMINATION. 

If a desire has assumed the dimension of a passion, it 
silences all other interests and considerations which lead men 
in the decisions of will, and presses with final power towards 
satisfaction. 

Here all reflection relating to the end is excluded, and 
only that admitted which relates to the serviceability of means. 
Self-determination in such a case is not to be thought of. 

It is otherwise with desire which is not passion. Here 
other considerations and interests of the individual become 
valid, which either advise the execution of the will or warn 
against it, according as they appear to be furthered or hin- 
dered. There is placed before consciousness the alternative 
to will or not to wall, that is, to refrain from willing. This is 
the first stage of reflection. 

In most cases, however, there is placed over against the 
desire, a, which rests upon the concept group, A, an oppos- 



248 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

ing desire, b, or even a third, c, which desires have their 
seat in the opposing concept groups, B and C. A struggle 
now arises among the desires, similar to the opposing con- 
cepts which struggle for the momentary control of conscious- 
ness. This struggle of the desires is extended to the concept 
groups in which they have their seat; i. e., to the complex of 
those interests which speak for the various objects of desire. 

This vacillation of the ego among various will determi- 
nations in order to unite itself to one of them produces the 
state of reflection. In reflection the ego runs through in 
thought the various possible ways of willing which a given 
case offers, and vacillates among them just as a subject con- 
cept vacillates among the various predicates offered, before 
the formation of any given judgment. (Compare 2 49.) Reflec- 
tion with thinking is called theoretical; with willing, practical. 

So long as the motives which correspond to the various 
ways of willing hold an equipoise, the reflection continues, 
and no decision is made. As soon, however, as any one of 
the possible will actions under consideration receives unex- 
pected reinforcement, whether from without or from within, 
the concept series serviceable to this action presses into con- 
sciousness with preponderating power, and the decision is 
made. 



I 98. PSYCHOLOGICAL FREEDOM.!) 

Psychological or inner freedom is the capacity of self- 
determination. The question is not whether every act of will 
is independent of every determining cause, but rather whether 
the determining causes are chiefly within the personality, or 
outside of it; i. e., in external conditions and causes. In the 

1) Compare the author's work, "Problems of Happiness," xvii., 
Freedom, p. 171, and the following. 



PSYCHOLOGICAL FREEDOM. 249 

first case man determines himself, in the latter he is deter- 
mined from without. 

Man comes in the course of his mental life into the great- 
est variety of outer situations, which impel him to the most 
various volitions and actions. Should only these outer influ- 
ences prevail (that is, should one always howl with the wolves 
or swim with the stream), he would be in no sense free, 
because his action would depend, not on himself, but upon 
external circumstances. 

The freedom of the will becomes more positive, the more 
man determines himself in accordance with inner, unchange- 
able rules, and in opposition to outer influences. These rules 
are called practical principles, or maxims. 1 ) 

A practical maxim is an apperceiving concept mass for 
a given class of volitions. If in several similar cases, where 
the decision might have been one way or the other, the 
decision has been made in the same way, a practical rule of 
volition and action is formed, which is decisive for future 
cases of this kind, since it brings its apperceiving power 
within the vacillation of reflection. A practical maxim is 
therefore nothing but a universal volition, whose power 
increases with the number of cases in which it has arrived at 
action. The oftener, for instance, one has decided against 
the temptation of the instant to gain a small advantage by 
lying, and has told the truth, the firmer does the maxim of 
inviolable truthfulness become within him, and the more 
completely does it determine his future volitions. 



1) Maxims, or principles, are distinguished from mere aphorisms 
in that they do not contain mere theoretical directions for any sort of 
will action, as, "be diligent," "be liberal," "do not lie," but are true 
psychological forces, which have gained their preponderance of 
strength -from the fact that they have been followed in many like 
cases of actual volition and action; in other words, from the fact that 
one has actually been diligent or liberal, that he has not lied, even 
when circumstances tempted him thereto. 



250 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

Remark 1. — The development of maxims is introduced by "prac- 
tical reflection" (g 97). He who acts without any reflection acts 
without freedom, and independent of principle. But he who is accus- 
tomed, not to follow blindly the desires which press into conscious- 
ness, but to be guided by reflection apon reasons and counter reasons, 
will soon come to will and to act in the same way in analogous cases. 
Similar volition will soon assume with him the significance of a prac- 
tical maxim, and determine all subsequent volitions of this sort. 

In this way a habit of action is formed within the man which 
makes him independent of the external emergencies of life; i. e., 
which makes him "psychologically free." 

Remark 2. — Psychological freedom is to be distinguished from 
the so-called absolute or transcendental freedom, by which is under- 
stood the capacity of establishing absolutely the first member in a 
chain of causes and effects. We cannot admit that man has this 
freedom; for each act of his will is in no wise the beginning mem- 
ber in a causal series, but rather itself a consequence of preceding 
causes; viz., the motives according to which he decides what his voli- 
tion shall be. These motives are rooted and grounded in the whole 
mental life. All concepts which work together to place any given 
concept in a condition of desire, and enable it to prevail over oppos- 
ing impulses, are involved. In order that a concept pass into desire 
and volition, it must have been just so often in consciousness, and 
have entered into just these combinations with other concepts; must 
have been united with just these furthering concepts and concept 
series, these and those sense-perceptions; it short, just this and not 
that must have happened. Every individual act of will is therefore a 
product, of which the events of our whole mental life form the deter- 
mining factors; so that man, with his volition, is not only not taken 
out of his chain of causal nexus by which all the events of nature 
are united, but is rather most intimately united to it. Experience 
completely confirms this observation. When we take the trouble to 
investigate why we have willed thus and not otherwise in any given 
case, we shall find the motives to the action, so far as they can be 
discovered, scattered more or less over our whole psychological past. 
It indeed appears to us, when, in a state of reflection, we wish to run 
through the various possibilities of volition, that the matter rests 
with us, and that we might just as well have decided one way as 
another; but it is only an appearance, because we do not feel our 
inner necessity, and because the self-observation is here directed only 



PSYCHOLOGICAL FREEDOM. 251 

upon the different possible volitions and the ego vacillating between 
them, but by no means upon the psychological depth of secret effec- 
tive motives, invisible to the inner eye, and which press the ego, now 
to this, now to that volition, and finally bring about the decision. 
Where with an individual no fixed combinations of concepts, no 
organic groups of concepts, no ruling ideas, no guiding maxims have 
been formed, when, therefore, all individual concept groups help 
with about equal force to decide an act of will, it will require but 
little effort of another to bring the decision to this or that side. 
Because now this motive, e. g., an obscure remembrance, something 
which merely occurs to the mind, an insignificant perception, escapes 
self-observation on account of its minuteness, it looks as if I decided 
purely according to subjective will. This is, for example, the case 
with the child, whose volition vacillates between the objects of his 
choice, like the concepts which come and go in his consciousness. 
Where, on the contrary, as with the adult and principled man, all 
concepts have experienced an organic formation, where the single 
exists only in relation to the whole, where all concept groups are lim- 
ited and clarified, the one against the other, then it will be easy to 
discover why, in a given case, he has determined himself in one way 
rather than in another. But precisely here, with the free man, it is 
evident that the volition is only the consequence of other presuppo- 
sitions; viz., the motives upon which it is based. When, therefore, 
we are not able to see the connection between a volition and its con- 
ditioning motives, we have on this account no ground for denying it. 
But aside from all this it may be shown that the idea of transcendental 
freedom is nonsense. For as soon as this is admitted, the moral order 
of the world loses its immovable basis. Every systematic influence 
upon man, therefore all education is foolishness, for it can produce 
no effect upon volition, and therefore none upon morality. The deeds 
of history are but the throws upon the dice board, for the volition 
which called them forth arose from chance, and might just as well 
have been otherwise. Any pragmatic view of history is mere subter- 
fuge. Any reciprocal trust in the intercourse between men, the for- 
mation of moral relations (love, friendship) is impossible, for he who 
to-day heaps upon me the proofs of his good will, may to-morrow, 
without the slightest occasion, persecute me with the arrows of ill- 
will. The building up of will into character would, finally, be an 
inconceivable undertaking. 



252 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

I 99. REASON. 

In psychology we have studied two kinds of reflection: 
the theoretical in the formation of the judgment, and the 
practical in self-determination. In the former the subject of 
a judgment is determined with respect to the predicate; in 
the latter the ego is determined with respect to a volition. 

The decision, which closes the state of deliberation, is 
brought to pass by means of certain controlling, i. e. , apper- 
ceiving concept masses, which put an end to the vacillation, 
either of the subject among several predicates, or of the ego 
among several proposed volitions, since they further the pre- 
dicate or volition corresponding to themselves in content, 
and at the same time suppress the opposing determinations. 
Upon the content of these apperceiving concepts depends 
our judgment of persons and things, as well as the direction 
of our volition and action. 

In the realm of theoretical reflection, notions are the 
apperceiving forces which determine our judgment. 1 ) These 
notions are, however, drawn within the circle of reflection 
when one tries to fix their reciprocal relation by means of a 
new judgment. This is a reflection of a higher kind, whose 
beginning is mediated by higher, more abstract notions. By 
continuous comparison of notions which form the object of our 
theoretical reflection, we reach the highest (theoretical) 
notions, which as the highest means of thought are called ideas. 
Magnitude and number, matter and force, God and nature, 
substance and quality, are examples of such higher ideas. 

But practical reflection, or deliberation, leads also to 
highest principles, or maxims (§ 98), which as soon as an- 
nounced assume the form of fundamental ideas concerning 
the unconditioned worth or worthlessness of volitional acts. 



1) These notions have themselves arisen in accordance with the 
manner in which we have previously willed, for each judgment is 
made but once, and is then transformed into a notion. (Compare \ 49.) 



REASON. 253 

These highest principles which guide the decisions of will, 
just as the theoretical ideas do the formation of judgments, 
may be called practical ideas. Right and equity, good will 
and perfection, are practical ideas. 

The ability to form ideas is the highest faculty of man 
— reason. Reason may be distinguished as theoretical and 
practical, according as it acts in the field of theoretical or 
of practical reflection. 

Reason is distinguished from understanding in this, that 
its rule is not confined to one or several fields of thought, 
but that it pertains to the whole of human reflection and 
volition, upon which it seeks to place the stamp of harmo- 
nious unity. While there are as many varieties of under- 
standing as there are connected, independent groups of con- 
cepts, so that it is not irrational to speak of a mathematical, 
a judicial, a commercial, or a scientific understanding, reason 
in its universal activity is the indivisible one, whether its 
decisions relate to theoretical reflection or to practical action. 

Remark 1. — Although the germs of reason's activity show them- 
selves very early in man, they are first found in a ripened state in the 
later years of manhood. The activity of reason shows itself where 
man, coming out of his isolated fields of thought, tries to bring the 
total of his convictions under a single principle. This occurs usually 
in the later years of life. Until then man allows himself to be led 
in his judgments and volitions, by the reason which is about him, and 
which speaks to him in the form of moral maxims, customs, public 
example, social order, and above all of religious worship. For, truly, 
the development of reason, i. e., the fixing of the inventory of our 
theoretical and practical ideas, is not the task of the individual 
but of the whole race; and one may in general say, that not only the 
individual, but also mankind, becomes more rational the older it 
grows. 

Remark 2. — The sway of reason manifests itself in the reciprocal 
determinableness of the concepts, the one by the other, in an all-sided 
and correct estimation of the various human interests. Children and 
animals, passionate and insane people have no reason; the former, 



254 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

because they do not arrive at the point of comparing concept groups 
and interests with one another; the latter, because being confined 
to one line of thought, they do not arrive at a correct estimation of 
all. Lack of reason can be recognized as blindness and foolishness, 
since that is highly estimated which is not worthy of such estimation. 
Practical reason manifests itself subjectively as conscience, in so far 
as this reveals to man what is good and what is bad. 

Remark 3. — Reason is sometimes defined otherwise, since it is 
represented as the "faculty of the supersensible," as the "faculty of 
reasoning" (with the syllogism), the "faculty of having a priori 
knowledge" and thereby distinguished from "Understanding," which 
is said to have to do with individual judgments and empirical knowl- 
edge. These explanations do not correspond to the common use of 
language. In order to solve a mathematical problem which involves 
profound conclusions, no reason is needed, but only a well-schooled 
understanding; and the insane man, who is robbed of his reason, 
may very well busy himself with the solution of a quadratic equation 
or with a game of chess. What, however, the latter can not do, is 
to produce an orderly arrangement in the various mental affairs and 
interests, which demands that the important shall not be forgotten on 
account of the trifling, and that end shall not be sacrificed to means. 
While the man of understanding merely investigates the serviceability 
of means, the rational man turns his attention to the end itself, and, 
since the end may appear as a means for a higher end, he gives 
thought to the last or final end, which is also called the ultimate pur- 
pose or destiny of an object. Reason may .therefore not inappro- 
priately be defined as the capacity of man to know his own destiny. 



g 100. CHARACTER. 

On account of the practical maxims which arise from 
rational reflection, a certain consistency is brought into the 
volitions and actions of men, because in their volition and 
action they decide similar cases in a similar way. 

If with any given man different practical principles have 
been developed, and a concept mass enters consciousness, 
urging towards a particular volition, those practical princi- 



CHARACTER. 255 

pies will be reproduced, which have any similarity to this 
concept mass; i. e., those which suffer an application to the 
present case. In this way the volition is so far removed from 
this mass of concepts that it remains in unison with the 
determining practical principle; that is, it will govern itself 
according to the principle, or maxim. 

This is, however, only possible when no contradiction 
exists among the maxims. Should this latter be the case, we 
have a collision. D This cannot be removed except as we 
accommodate our volition to the principle which is acknowl- 
edged as the higher. The various moral maxims should not, 
therefore, stand isolated side by side, but, for the avoidance 
of collision, be arranged in a specific* order, at the top of 
which a highest moral principle must be placed. As a final 
resort, this highest principle must govern the decision when 
there is a collision between volition and moral maxims. 

In this way, all' volitions and actions are brought into that 
harmony which constitutes the essence of character. "We 
may here understand, then, by character, the consistency of 
all willing and acting through their subordination to practical 
principles, these being in turn subordinated to one highest prin- 
ciple of morat conduct. 

The quality of character depends upon the content of 
the practical principles; if these are throughout moral, and 
if at their head stands the decision to govern one's self under 
all circumstances according to the demands of the moral 
law, and in accordance with the voice of conscience, the 
character is then a moral one. Where any other determining 
power, as, e. g. , a final end sought through the volition of 



1) Such collisions are not rare. The rescue of my fellow man 
bids me tell a lie. It is here difficult to be true in like degree to the 
two maxims: "Help your fellow man" and "Speak the truth." One must 
govern himself according to the higher, and avoid the lie. In the 
same manner the maxims of justice and those of good will come into 
conflict. Here the rule is, that one should above all avoid moral blame. 



256 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

passion, takes the place of the highest moral maxim, of course 
there can be no moral character. 

Only a moral character is truly a character at all, for a 
consistency running through the whole life of man and through 
all his actions, can be reached only under the form of moral- 
ity, whose individual demands possess the greatest harmony. 
The immoral character finds itself in contradiction with the 
eternal demands of morality, which can not be dismissed out 
of hand, and which when they once become valid in the con- 
sciousness of the immoral man, torment him through remorse 
so that he collapses within himself. (Character of the robber, 
Moor, according to Schiller's portrayal.) 

Moral character fs the highest aim and most perfect form 
of psychical development. It is a work of art, which man 
must exhibit throughout his whole life, and in all his volitions 
and actions, and which he must regard as his highest pur- 
pose. It is consequently an ideal, only approachable by man 
in his earthly life. It is much that some of the practical 
principles of his spiritual personality are able to bear the 
stamp of character. 

Remark 1. — Rationality — morality — freedom — firmness of charac- 
ter, are apprehensions of the same notion from different sides. He 
who acts rationally acts morally; for the content of reason is the 
demands of the moral law; he is also free in his action, because he 
determines himself, not in accordance with the momentary state of his 
consciousness, which is inclined to favor now this, now that desire, 
but according to the unchanging demands of his rational insight, 
which forms the fixed center of his ego. By thus freeing his volition 
from all accidental vacillations, he acts consistently; i. e., as having 
character. 

Remark 2. — The practical principles by no means demand of man 
a particular volition; they leave him, rather, the greatest freedom, 
and demand only that in the choice of a volition arising from a spe- 
cific occasion, he shall not decide until he has listened to what the 
moral maxims prescribe. Consistency of moral character is, then, to 
be distinguished from a monotonous uniformity in action, for the 



CHARACTER. 257 

volition for which a moral character in any given case will decide, 
depends not only npon the nature of the principles involved, but also 
upon the nature of the material to which the principle is to he applied. 
This material consists in the manifoldness of situation in which the 
acting character finds itself, and over which it is master only to a 
limited extent. As these situations vary, so will also consistent voli- 
tion and action. This application of ideal principles to empirical 
matter is what gives to human virtue the aspect of a work of art, in 
whose realization the special skill of the individual exhibits itself. It 
does not suffice, therefore, merely to yield to moral principles; one 
must also possess wisdom enough to be able to decide how a volition 
under given circumstances may be subsumed under the total of moral 
principles. There are cases conceivable in which such a subsumption 
would require especial skill. 

Remark 3. — As human consciousness manifests itself as sensibility 
in regard to feeling, so in regard to volition it manifests itself as 
moral intention, which is either good or bad, since the will is the im- 
mediate object of moral judgment. We ascribe morality to a man in 
whom the totality of volition is of large magnitude, because in this 
case the individual acts of will do not contradict, but further one 
another; whereas we ascribe lack of morality to one in whom the 
totality of volition is small, since one volition is annulled by another. 
Character is, therefore, the expression for a uniform moral direction of 
will, which brings the individual volitions of a personality into such 
inner and reciprocal harmony that their sum is a maximum. Every con- 
tradiction in volition gnaws at the root of character, whereas agree- 
ment and consistency strengthen it. The pure ideal of character and 
moral activity is a fullness of volition and action which, spread over the 
space of time alloted to one being, stand to one another inorganic unity, 
and from which the sharp outlines of a self-realizing personality shine 
forth. The realization of such an ideal is the highest function of man. 
The fulfillment of this function reveals itself subjectively in the sum of 
those satisfactions, which taken together comprise the happiness of 
man. While the contradiction between unbridled desires distracts 
the mind, and passion tends artificially to unite them in eccentric foci 
of thought, character, on the other hand, is the only true form of 
self-consistent consciousness, the true source of inner happiness. 



258 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

I 101. IMPUTATION. 

Imputation is a judgment, declaring that a particular 
outer consequence, as deed, has arisen from the ego of some 
particular person. The volition stands between the conse- 
quence and the ego, as a mediating member; for the effect 
can be related to the ego only by means of the will. Impu- 
tation has, accordingly, two aspects. The first, as imputa- 
tion in the narrow sense, ascribes the consequence as deed to 
a particular volition; the second, as higher imputation, 
relates the volition to the ego. 

Imputation in the narrow sense has to decide to what 
extent a given consequence is a deed; i. e. , has proceeded 
from volition. The deed extends as far as volition and con- 
sequence coincide; i. e. , as far as the sum of external changes 
corresponds to the mind's conception of them. 

In particular cases, an incongruity may arise between 
volition and consequence. Each plus upon the side of will 
which is not covered by effect remains mere design, as, for 
example, when murder is intended but merely a wound results; 
every plus on the side of consequence not covered by volition 
remains mere event, as, for example, a death stroke where 
only wounding was intended. 

Although imputation of the minor sort extends in gen- 
eral only so far as result and intent coincide in the deed, yet 
under certain circumstances the mere intent and the mere 
result may be taken into consideration, in that the former 
may be inferred from outward circumstances (attempt of a 
criminal), or in how far the latter ought to have been re- 
garded in will; i. e., should have been foreseen (transgression 
and carelessness). 

In the same way, the lack of consequence where there 
was a duty, may be imputed. But the imputation vanishes 
entirely where there was no volition, or where the outer con- 
sequence together with the volition stood outside of connec- 



IMPUTATION. 259 

tions perceivable by the latter, so that according to the com- 
mon nexus of things the result could not be ascribed to 
the will. 

The higher imputation is the assertion that some given 
volition has proceeded out of the ego of a particular person- 
ality. This imputation relates to the decision, as to how far, 
in the moment of deed, the subject of the volition was in a 
condition of psychological freedom; i. e., as to how far he 
was responsible. 

Judicial imputation in the court of justice presupposes 
the responsibility of an individual so long as he does not 
appear excluded by certain anomalous conditions, which are 
usually more or less specified in the statutes, but rarely 
made precise. Among these anomalous conditions are such 
as the various forms of mental disease, sleep or states aris- 
ing therefrom, and temporary insanity. 1 ) 

This judicial imputation, further, makes only two dis- 
tinctions with regard to responsibility, according as psy- 
chological freedom, and with it responsibility, is present or 
not. 2 ) Only in the form of so-called ' < alleviating circum- 
stances" have the legal statutes regarded the degree of 
responsibility in the adjustment of punishments. 



1) J. B. Frederick in his "System of Judicial Psychology," chap. 
III., § 2, ("System der Oerichtlichen Psychologic") protests against the 
specializing of anomalous mental states altering responsibility in law 
statutes, "because specialists are not agreed as to the naming, defin- 
ing, and classifying of psychical diseases, and because, on the one 
side, the scheme of psychical anomalies for forensic purposes is much 
greater than that of mental diseases; and, on the other side, because 
the stability of once enacted laws is opposed to the rapid progress of 
psychology in the field of science and experience" (p. 75). Instead 
of this the statutes ought to contain the general statement: Every 
individual who at the time of the deed was not in a free mental con- 
dition is not responsible (p. 83). 

2) Friereich says: "There are no degrees of imputation, because 
there are no degrees of rational freedom of volition upon which it is 
based. There is no middle thing between psychical freedom and lack 
of freedom" (p. 122). 



260 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

Moral imputation, on the contrary, distinguishes differ- 
ent degrees of responsibility, which answer to the different 
degrees of perfection with which the apperception of will, 
from the side of the more or less wakeful ego concept, acts. 
It distinguishes hasty deeds from those of deliberation, it 
separates moral confusion from deliberate wickedness, and 
investigates closely the connection in which the individual 
volition stands to the norm of will; i. e., to character. 

Remark. — Without presupposing mental disease, there may be 
situations where the psychological freedom, and with it responsibility, 
if not excluded, is reduced to a minimum. Volition may have its 
source either in a momentary state of consciousness, of which one is 
perhaps not master, or in a single principle, or in the whole charac- 
ter. In sudden passion a man is "beside himself"; an apperception 
by the suppressed ego concept is out of the question. Many volitions 
and actions "surprise" one so that soon after the deed, when he has 
come to himself, he would regretfully undo his deed, if he could. 
Lack of regard to the degree of responsibility may be characterized 
as a chief fault of the present customary infliction of punishment. 



APPENDIX. 



MENTAL DISEASES. 

§ 102. THE DREAM AS A PROTOTYPE OF MENTAL DISEASE. 

Mental diseases have about them something wonderful 
and inexplicable only so long as they, with their manifesta- 
tions, stand out of all analogy with normal soul life. One 
may convince himself by closer investigation, however, that 
the beginnings of mental disturbance are largely to be sought 
among mental states held to be healthy, and that real mental 
diseases show in remarkable degree what we, in daily life, 
have occasion to observe in ourselves and in others. 

It is in particular the condition of sleep (? 12) which 
shows us temporary phenomena similar to those we find to 
be permanent in mental diseases. D In sleep it is a single, 
extraordinarily strong concept mass, standing out of connec- 
tion with the concepts of the waking state, that, by means 
of strength and opposition to the ruling concepts of the day 
brings about a more or less complete obscuration of our con- 
sciousness. This concept mass is the resultant of the body 
sensations, which, corresponding to the tired condition of 
muscles and nerves, bring about and accompany sleep. Like 
a mechanical force, these concepts, acting as a mass alone, 
without significance, and without organic connection, clear 



1) We should soon come upon the track of consciousness and of 
insanity, could we know what sleep, what waking is. Reil's Rhap- 
sodies, p. 87. 



262 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

the significant phenomena of waking life from the theater of 
consciousness. This great concept mass, which appears as 
an aberration of the vital sensation, may be called the sleep- 
sensation. (Compare 2 30, Remark 2.) 

The arrest of concepts through the sleep-sensation is 
either complete or incomplete. The first occurs in deep sleep, 
the latter during the state of half sleep, when the concepts 
appear in consciousness as dreams. 

The concepts of dreams are usually distinguished on 
account of their peculiar intensity, because they do not suffer 
the arrest which, during the working state, arises from the 
senses and from reproduction; for the senses are locked in 
sleep, and reproduction is hindered by somatic pressure. 
Hence, on account of their liveliness, concepts appearing in 
sleep assume the character of immediate impressions of sense, 
and are mistaken for perceptions. 

In the state of sleep, the free association of concepts, 
and consequently their reciprocal determinableness, is hin- 
dered on account of the physiological pressure of sleep-sen- 
sations. Certain ruling concepts of the waking state do not 
appear; as when, for example, we wander in dreams upon 
the surface of the water, without being reminded that water 
yields to the weight of solid bodies; or when we converse 
with persons long since dead, because we have forgotten the 
fact of their departure from life. 

The confusion of reproduced concepts with immediate 
sense-perceptions (hallucinations) destroys the validity of sen- 
sations, and the absence of the right thought at the right 
time is the surest characteristic of defective reflection. He 
who in a waking state thinks he "perceives" things which 
are not present, or who by the absence of the most common 
determining thoughts should, e. g., try to walk upon the 
water, or to converse with the dead, would certainly be 
regarded as a sufferer from mental disease. 



MENTAL DISEASE. 263 

Dreamlife is further a prototype of a diseased mental 
state, because here also the unity of consciousness is destroyed. 
It is known, for instance, that the dream does not regard 
space and time, and that it thereby perpetrates the greatest 
absurdities, bringing persons and things together from dif- 
ferent places and times. Nor does the dreamer remain with 
one object of thought, but like the insane man springs from 
one thing to another. 

The highest unity of consciousness is the one and indi- 
visible ego, which amid all changes is still identical with itself. 
This unity of self-consciousness is broken in sleep. As the 
dramatic poet apportions the various roles among the dram- 
atis personce, but is conscious of his activities through the 
ever recurring thought, "It is I who write," so in dreams- 
our ego divides into various personalities 1 ), and experiences 
the strangest alienations on account of the suppression of 
our true self-consciousness (the historical ego), so that we 
not seldom act in dreams in accordance with principles which 
in a waking state we should reject with the greatest indig- 
nation. 

In sleep we are in precisely the condition of insanity, in 
that we are unable to accomplish that which we desire and 
strive for. 

In dreams memory and j tidgment appear suppressed and 
disturbed, and with them also reason and self consciousness. 
This is on account of the psychological pressure, and the 
one-sided and accidental arrest of concepts which follows 
from it. 



1) The divisions of the ego are often very strange — as when 
Johnson found himself engaged in a contest of wit, and was excelled 
by his opponent; or when a Herr von Gons dreamed himself back in 
school, and heard his schoolmates answer questions which he himself 
could not answer. And to whom has it not occurred, that he has in 
dreams surpassed himself? 



264 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

| 103. PSYCHICAL DISTURBANCES WITHIN HEALTHY 

MENTAL LIFE. 

The waking mental state of man presents many phenom- 
ena of psychical disturbance, which, on account of the prin- 
ciples of humanity and of reciprocal connivance, we do not 
reckon as true mental diseases, because they do not so per- 
manently and radically alter the equipoise of spiritual life 
that an understanding of the present condition is excluded, 
and that it is impossible to bring the mind to a realization of 
its erratic ideas through proper means. These phenomena 
may be reduced to the following types: 

1. Excessive limitation of the range of thought. Tem- 
porarily this assumes the appearance of absorption in a fixed 
concept mass, which is investigated in all its relations, every 
thing foreign being rigorously repelled. Here belongs the 
mental state of the victim of melancholy, who stubbornly 
resists all consolation and all recreation in order to pursue 
his dreary thoughts, for the most part imaginations — but 
also the absorption of the thinker, who, observing nothing 
about him, shuts himself up in his world of abstract notions. 
This narrowing of consciousness may also become habitual 
when change in lines of thought is excluded, and the man 
remains in a monotonous mental state. The rule of passion, 
exclusive education, undifferentiated occupation, narrow lim- 
itation in external environment, society, calling, and habit, 
not seldom lead to such a limitation and narrowing of the 
mental horizon. With this is connected, 

2. The extraordinary prolongation of the course of rep- 
resentation, which manifests itself as slowness of apprehen- 
sion, as feebleness of natural capacity, and in a higher degree 
as feeble-mindedness, with which the readiness of the genial 
mind with its witty remarks and happy apprehension is in 
pleasing contrast. The slow, heavy mind (tardum ingenium) 
is not able to follow the flight of events or the sinuosities of 



PSYCHICAL DISTURBANCES. 265 

an address, but limps behind with questions after others have 
long since understood. 1 ) In contrast to this stands, 

3. Excessive scattering of thought without concentration, 
as an aimless vacillation between excitations presenting 
themselves from opposite directions. Here are lacking the 
necessary apperceiving concept masses which effect the 
concentration and direction of the course of representation. 
1 i Irrational education in periods of development, which gives 
the mental powers their direction; suspended studies; fre- 
quent change from one calling to another; social conditions 
teaching a multitude of contradictory human interests and 
views, and finally along with this the causing of nomadic 
mental habits; the unstable external lingering, with its 
chaotic variety of impressions, — all these are causes which 
lead to the diffusion or scattering of mental life" (Lotze). 
If to the ungoverned multiplicity of concepts and endeavors 
the idea of strength or intensity is added, we have, 

4. Violence of mental movements as a consequence of a 
rapid, strong, and uncontrolled course of representation. 
At first this violence breaks out in momentary passion, but 
it becomes gradually fixed as a disposition to passion and 
excessive excitability. ' 

The man imprisoned in a narrow field of thought, or 
inaccessible to teaching from without, the passionate, the 
melancholy, the delver after subtilities, the feeble minded and 
lazy, the man afflicted with mental dissipation or violent emo- 
tion — all are far removed from the picture of mental health; 
nevertheless, it occurs to no one to declare them ready for 
the madhouse. And yet it requires but a step to transform 

1) ''There are feeble minded who deport themselves rationally, 
observing all proper forms, even of the most cultured manner of life. 
And yet it is only the outer shell of man that has been preserved, 
while the mental kernel has long since disappeared, or perhaps never 
was present. The inner hollowness is revealed by empty phrases and 
manners, which remain as the results of lifelong habits" Ricker, 
Mental Diseases (Seelenstdrungen), p. 78. 



266 EMPIBICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

the four given types of mental disturbance into the four chief 
types of mental disease; viz., melancholia, imbecility, de- 
mentia, or the state of the fool, and mania. This step is taken 
as soon as, in consequence of the reciprocal interaction be- 
tween body and mind, this disturbance has become fixed in 
the altered functional capacity of the nervous system. 



§ 104. THE RISE OF MENTAL DISEASES. 

We reckon all those permanent anomalies of mental life 
in the class of real mental diseases in which the reciprocal 
determinableness of concepts is disturbed to considerable 
degree, so that the man is thereby rendered incapable in the 
ordinary affairs of common life. 

The mind cannot in itself become diseased, because the 
reciprocal determinableness of concepts cannot be destroyed 
in purely psychological ways. However much the equipoise 
of concepts may be disturbed by violent mental agitations, 
it may be restored in accordance with psychological laws; 
however great the errors and illusions in which man may for 
the moment find himself, the psychological way is always 
open for their correction. 

The basis of our self-consciousness is the concept of our 
own body, which in turn rests upon the broad basis of the 
general body sensations (2 58). All concepts entering con- 
sciousness there meet the vital sensation and fuse with it. 
Deep-seated disturbances of the nervous system, proceeding 
from physical ills, must, as a consequence, also bring about 
a transformation of the vital sensation (2 18), which may 
become very dangerous for the continuity of mental life. For, 
the vital sensation altered through sickness forms a new and 
very powerful concept mass, which forms a sharp contrast to 
the content of the former mental life, and instead of form- 



RISE OF MENTAL DISEASES. 267 

ing a basis for it, threatens partially to obscure it, after the 
analogy of the sleep sensation. The self-consciousness is 
divided, because the concepts connect themselves partly to 
the normal (historical), partly to abnormal vital sensation. 
The two ego concepts alternate with one another as in sleep 
and waking, and struggle for supremacy, until, with increas- 
ing mental disturbance, the new, abnormal ego succeeds in 
releasing itself entirely from the past, displacing entirely 
the historical ego, so that the latter becomes a mere "he. " 
This is possible only as the somatic foundation of the latter, 
namely, the normal life sensation, is obscured by the advanc- 
ing bodily disturbance, and its corresponding body sensations, 
just as in sleep the vital sensation is obscured by the sleep 
sensation. There is then formed the concept of an imaginary 
body which reveals itself in hallucinations of the vital sen- 
sation, as a crippling of the various parts of the body, or a 
shortening or lengthening or doubling of the same; as in- 
crease or decrease of bodily weight; as an exchange in sex 
or age; as transformation of the body into glass, wood, but- 
ter, etc. 

To the concept of an imaginary body there is soon added 
the concept of an imaginary world, which manifests itself 
through hallucinations of the various senses. Since the pres- 
sure of the alienated vital sensation, like the sleep sensation 
in dreams, affects the concept groups in unequal measure, it 
destroys memory and the Action of the understanding in cer- 
tain directions, whereas it allows them to proceed in others; 
or it may, as in clairvoyance, unduly intensify them. Because 
in arrested reproduction and apperception individual members 
of concept masses and series drop out, the concept struc- 
tures lose that logical character which they manifest in wak- 
ing and healthy soul life, and take on the aspect of the dis- 
torted and l 'deranged. " This at least in general; in particular, 
exceptional cases may arise where this logical character 



268 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

remains, so that the insane man often passes a sharp judg- 
ment in individual things, and fools often speak the truth. D 

Remark 1. — According to what has been said, mental diseases 
have their source in the body. This view is supported by the fact that 
they are caused by direct injury to the brain, and by diseases of the 
nervous system, as well as by the fact of hereditary disposition to 
them. 2) The fact, also, that mental diseases may be occasioned by 
psychical states, does not disagree with the foregoing. The violent 
emotions show us how deeply even transient mental states may affect 
the nervous system, and what intensifying they experience from the 
altered state of the nerves. If the emotion is repeated, the tempo- 
rary disturbance of the nerve activity may become permanent, and 
on its own account bring about lasting mental disturbances. In this 
respect, mental disturbances may be regarded as violent emotions 
grown permanent. 

Where the physical disposition to insanity is already present, or 
where it is implanted by means of sickness, unnatural habits, drunk- 
enness, or other excesses, purely psychological influence, as unex- 
pected calamities, passions, etc., may easily lead to mental disease; 
but where this disposition is wanting, the most violent mental dis- 
turbances and the severest blows of fate are not able to endanger the 
health of the mental life. 

From this it follows as a matter of course that it is impossible to 
cure the insane by purely psychical methods. "I understand you 
very well," said a young victim of melancholia^ to the celebrated phy- 
sician, Esouirol, "I understand your conclusions. If I were con- 
vinced of them, I should be cured." Only from a physical strength- 
ening with appropriate soothing of the nervous system, accompanied 
by a corresponding mental treatment, can the curing of mental dis- 
eases be expected. 

Remark 2. — In common life mental disturbances are more ascribed 
to easily perceived psychical occasions than to the more hidden phys- 



1) The fool is free from those considerations which give the judi- 
cious pause; he blurts out the truth, where the wise man dares only 
think; hence in earlier times the custom of keeping for this pur- 
pose artificial fools, called "court fools." 

2) Of 425 cases of mental diseases which the practical specialist, 
Ricker, observed, 144, or more than one-third of all the cases, were 
traceable to decided mental disturbances in the nearest relatives of 
the persons afflicted. 



CHIEF FORMS OF MENTAL DISEASE. 269 

ical ills lying at their basis. Thus, wo see insanity proceeding from 
temporary and permanent passions, from anxiety and trouble, from 
love and homesickness, from political and religious fanaticism; we 
may in great cities, even see insanity become epidemic. However 
true it may be that the beginning point of insanity is to be sought 
in the exigencies of mental life, its true cause always lies in the body. 
The mental elasticity is so great that even the most violent storm 
that could rage through it must still itself again, did it not call forth 
changes in the bodily substrate, whose return to a normal state of 
functional activity is less easily accomplished, thereby bringing about 
more or less permanent mental disturbances. 

Remark 3. — The physical changes which produce the abnormal 
somatic pressure and with it real mental disease, exercise an impor- 
tant influence upon the soul, even in normal mental life. ''Conditions 
of indefinable anxiety and oppression often master the soul, even 
when the general conditions of life appear perfectly satisfactory; 
they increase to painful restlessness, which can find relief in no line 
of thought, in no occupation; even the smallest impression oppresses 
the soul with a weight out of proportion to its importance cer- 
tain concepts, once called forth, cling to consciousness with unwonted 
tenacity, so that wherever we turn remembrance brings them back to 
us. In other cases an apathy of mind arises; indifference overcomes 
us, so that every earnest thing, all worthy purposes appear to fail, 
and all ethical standpoints seem to have only a relative validity along- 
side of others" (Lotze). 



§ 105. THE CHIEF FORMS OF MENTAL DISEASE. 

The bodily disturbance, in which every mental disease 
has its root, may be regarded as the degeneration of one of 
the four chief kinds of temperament. Four chief forms of 
mental disease may therefore be distinguished; of which mel- 
ancholia corresponds to the melancholy; imbecility, or stu- 
pidity to the phlegmatic; idiocy or dementia (as the mental 
state of the fool) to the sanguine; and madness or mania 
to the choleric temperament. 



270 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

In melancholia the somatic pressure rests upon the whole 
consciousness, with the exception of a single circle of con- 
cepts, which on this account appear with so much the more 
vigor. 1 * The main thought of this concept circle, which dom- 
inates the whole mental life, is an illusory concept, which is 
called a fixed idea. In that the fixed idea yields to no oppos- 
ing concepts, not even to those whose correctness would be 
at once recognized by any sane mind, the character of the 
insanity is discovered. The historical ego is suppressed as 
in dream, and a new one whose middle point is the illusory 
concept rules the consciousness. 

When the madhouse with all its inmates can not bring 
one who holds himself to be a king to a knowledge of his 
insanity, we have proof in this fact that the historical ego 
has been suppressed, and the determinableness of concepts 
resolved. This form of insanity has lucid intervals; i. e., 
rational moments, during which the illusory idea is beneath 
the threshold, and the course of thought normal. By and 
by, however, the patient places his fixed idea in more or less 
absurd connections with all his concepts, and the lucid inter- 
vals grow rarer. The insane notion has become permanent 
in consciousness. The melancholy temperament, ruling pas- 
sions, all that favors too great and too permanent narrowing 
of consciousness, furthers the disposition to this form of in- 
sanity. 

Imbecility, or stupidity, which may be regarded as an 
exaggeration of the phlegmatic temperament, is the retar- 
dation of the mental life until it is sunk into a stagnating 
stand-still. Imbecility, often inborn, often the final result 



1) The somatic pressure (Compare § 102), i. e., the complex of 
body sensations brought about by the abnormal physical state forms 
with the ruling concept masses of clear consciousness a purely acci- 
dental association, and the alliance of these two powers is so strong 
that they force even the historical ego of the man beneath the 
threshold. 



CHIEF FORMS OF MENTAL DISEASE. 27) 

of preceding forms of sickness, has countless grades, being 
on the one side merely feeble-mindedness, and ending on the 
other in a complete quenching of all spiritual alertness. In 
a few mountain regions which are characterized by narrow 
and deep valleys, want of sunshine and circulation of air, as 
well as by the peculiar character of ground and water, imbe- 
cility in connection with bodily disfigurement appears endem- 
ically as cretinism. 

The mental state of the fool may be regarded as the 
degeneration of the sanguinary temperament; it has no rul- 
ing concepts and no lucid intervals. The mental life presents 
the picture of complete distraction, thought being held 
together by no logical or psychological bands. The concepts 
of the fool leap from one object to another, without rule or 
logical order. 1 ) Though in the first form of mental disease 
mentioned, the psychical disturbance proceeded from a single 
middle point, the fixed idea, it is spread over all concepts 
with the fool, and manifests a widely extended mental illness 
difficult to cure. 

In madness, or mania, which may be regarded as the 
degeneration of the choleric temperament, we find the con- 
cept life of the man at the height of a permanent passion, or 
violent emotion, which manifests itself as a wild impulse to 
bodily actions without end or aim. This impulse by no means 
has its seat in a fixed concept series but in an organic excita- 
bility of the highest degree; the actions of the maniac, which 
break out without any reflection and even against the will, 



1) The physician, Kicker, gives a sample of the course of thought 
of an educated insane patient, who was accustomed to record his con- 
fused thought upon paper. We find therein, " there, where love 

and fidelity meet, and love and fidelity kiss each other; there, where 
noble, good men live, it is good. And where human nature is, follows 
benevolence to the powerful, creator's privilege, everlasting youth- 
ful existence, never failing exaltation, whose pure maiden, feminine 
in truth, power and clearness, pure women, and the powerful creator's 
blessing, do good," etc. 



272 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

and which may be turned against even beloved persons, has 
no other purpose than to give relief to this excitability, just 
as man in the midst of intense bodily pain performs all sorts 
of contortions, or as an angry man throws chairs about or 
smashes glasses. Because this form of sickness appears with 
a certain inviolability of understanding — the patients, when 
attacks are approaching, warn their friends not to come near 
them, and often have themselves locked up — it has been 
called "mania sine delirio," and as such has led to much 
controversy as to the responsibility of the patient; such con- 
troversies, however, may be easily decided when one regards 
the undoubted bodily origin of all mental diseases. 

The given classification is not one of the mentally dis- 
eased, but of mental diseases. Thus, a mental illness may 
begin with melancholia, increase to madness, and end with 
imbecility. 

Remark 1. — Still stranger than the mania sine delirio are those 
partial mental diseases which bear the name, monomania, and which 
consist in the most irresistible impulses to actions of a particular 
sort, though with otherwise perfect mental health. Of the various 
kinds of monomania, whose study is of special importance for the 
application of punishment, the commonest are the mania for stealing, 
for killing, and for burning. Cases are known where persons of edu- 
cation and high social standing are, without any kind of outer need, 
subordinated to the impulse to steal, from which influence they can in 
no way withdraw themselves. In the same manner the impulse to 
kill arises and grows. In the years of development of both sexes, 
the impulse to burn is not seldom active. It rests upon a peculiar love 
of fire and under some circumstances leads to actual arson. 

Remark 2. — Now that the chief forms of mental disease have 
been fixed, the otherwise vague notion of mental soundness may be 
more exactly defined. It becomes, accordingly, a condition which is 
the exact opposite of the four main forms of mental disease. It is 
characterized, therefore, in contrast to melancholia, by the rational 
equipoise of concepts according to their true value — in contrast to 
imbecility, by a proper rhythm of mental alertness — in contrast to 



MENTAL ACTIVITY. 273 

the mental state of the fool by the rational collected state of mind, 
and by logical control of the course of representation — in contrast to 
madness, by the subordination of the will and impulses to insight. 



{ 106. INTENSIFYING OF MENTAL ACTIVITY THROUGH 
DISEASED CONDITIONS. 

We find as a side piece to mental diseases those rather 
rare anomalous conditions in which the mental activities, in 
consequence of somatic influences, experience an increase in 
intensity, though this for the most part is one-sided. 

All these conditions are closely related to sleep, and 
externally proceed from it or assume its form. Clairvoyance, 
somnambulism, and mesmeric sleep are among these condi- 
tions. During these states the consciousness is obscured by 
somatic influences as in sleep, thus illuminating, as in dreams, 
a single line of thought, the realm of clairvoyance. What no 
voluntary effort of abstraction during waking hours is able 
to accomplish, namely, the concentration of the whole men- 
tal activity upon a single line of thought to the exclusion of 
all disturbing minor concepts, is brought about by the arti- 
ficial night of abnormal sleep. It is also always possible that 
disturbances of mental life which have arisen in the waking 
state from connection with an unfavorably organized body 
may be intensified by abnormal excitation of the central 
organs, and the soul be thereby placed in a state of greater 
freedom from the determining power of the body, thereby 
bringing about a greater activity of intelligence. An unnat- 
ural augmentation of intelligence, however, even in these 
states has never been observed; an important piece of new 
wisdom has never proceeded from the mouth of somnambulist 
or clairvoyant. Just as little can the night walker, who 
strides in safety over roofs, withdraw himself from the rule 
of natural laws; the greater skill which he develops in sleep 



274 EMPIRICAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

arises from the greater daring given to him by abstraction 
from the sense of danger. 

Most enigmatical are the phenomena of the so-called 
"mesmeric sleep," which are artificially produced through 
certain manipulations by the mesmerizer upon a person sus- 
ceptible to these influences, and whereby the sleeper remains 
in a certain active communication (en rapport) with the mes- 
merizer, giving the most astonishing answers to questions 
proposed to him. However far these conditions, for lack of 
authentic cases, may be removed from a true explanation, 
they do not stand out of all analogy to normal phenomena 
of mental life. The artificial production of sleep by monoto- 
nous, sleep-inducing impressions is a well-known phenomenon 
of normal soul life, and the one-sided intensifying of the 
activity of the mind finds an explanation in the abnormal 
concentration of consciousness. The " visions" of the mes- 
merized are always related in some way to his favorite notions, 
and are colored by the rest of his mental life. Thus a mes- 
merized pious man will have visions with a religious content, 
whereas the politician will prate of political reform. Finally, 
he whose whole thought, feeling, and will are in excessive 
degree yielded to one person, the magnetizer, will in his 
mesmerized state, be governed in his speech by this person 
alone, and will manifest as open a sense even to his slightest 
volitions, as the sleeping nurse shows to the most insignifi- 
cant movements of the child intrusted to her care. What 
in these states would be really supernatural, as, e. g. , read- 
ing with the tips of the fingers, seeing with the cavity of 
the heart, etc., was not established before scientific examin- 
ing commissions, and belongs to the realm of exaggerations. 

These considerations do not, therefore, warrant the 
acceptance of the hypothesis of a magnetic fluid active from 
individual to individual like a nerve principle, which gave 
the name to this class of phenomena. 



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